


Tumblr Challenge Prompt Drabbles

by LilyAceOfDiamonds



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bullying, Characters Added As Updated, Classism, Homophobia, Illness, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Torture, Injury, Multi, Nightmares, Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Racism, Recreational Drug Use, Transphobia, Tumblr Prompts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-01
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2019-08-14 10:12:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 31
Words: 23,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16490618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilyAceOfDiamonds/pseuds/LilyAceOfDiamonds
Summary: A collection of tumblr drabbles I did for a One-A-Day writing challenge. Various Harry Potter characters, added in the tags as I add each prompt.EDIT: I'm tagging all the triggers in the notes for each chapter. If I missed one, please let me know!





	1. Stargazing With A Loved One

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt was ‘stargazing with a loved one’. Set after Regulus steals the locket and escapes to the only people he knows won’t turn him away — James and Lily Potter. (What do you mean, that’s not how it happened?)
> 
> Also they start out short and progressively get longer. Sorry not sorry.

James stepped outside of the muggle apartment, quietly shutting the door so he didn’t wake Lily. It was turning into a frequent occurrence, waking up to Regulus slipping out the door into the dark, but this was the first night James followed him. The other man turned when he heard the door click, hand moving for a wand he no longer had.

“It’s just me.” He watched as Regulus relaxed at his words, so much like Sirius it was uncanny. He moved to sit next to Reg on the steps. Reg glanced over at him briefly, and then turned his attention skyward once more.

“There’s Sirius.” The voice was soft, but James looked up to where Regulus was pointing. He saw the star, already familiar with it thanks to the boy named for the brightest object in the sky. Then he looked back at the brother sitting next to him, and sighed.

“If you just let me contact him, Reg–” He was cut off with a sharp shake of the head and a quick glare.

“No! You promised. I don’t – I can’t, James. I can’t face him. Not right now. Not yet.” Tears were glistening in his eyes, but the proud Slytherin refused to let them fall. James wrapped an arm around him, and after a tense moment of stiffness Regulus leaned into the embrace. “I don’t want him to hate me.”

James stroked his hair softly, much like he had with Sirius, and sighed softly. “He doesn’t hate you, Reg. He never did. But I promised, so I won’t. Not until you tell me to.”

They were silent for a minute, and then James looked back up at the sky.

“So, where’s Regulus?”


	2. Running For Our Lives

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt was 'running for our lives', and Marlene and Sirius got away from me a little bit. [... pun not intended but still appreciated]

Marlene was minding her own business, flipping through vinyls at the muggle record store next to The Leaky Cauldron. It was finally summer holiday, and she was planning on spending the ten quid she had saved up to get some decent music that the girls could listen to in their dorm. Definitely some Bowie, maybe she’ll get ABBA…

“Well, well. Look who we have here.” The voice of a particularly nasty Slytherin made her look up sharply, reaching for her wand in the same motion. There were four of them, although what they were doing there was lost to Marlene.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” When in doubt, ask while forming an escape plan. She couldn’t do magic outside Hogwarts yet, she was only fourteen. And she didn’t think she could take all four of them, even though she knows how to hold her own. But they were standing between her and the door, and she didn’t know if there was a back door in this tiny shop.

“We owe Black a beating for that shower dye prank he pulled last week.” They sneered, and she laughed in their faces as she remembered them coming into the Great Hall covered in Red and Gold dye.

“Why would he be in here?” She didn’t think Sirius even liked muggle things, although if he was going to hide Muggle London was probably a good bet. “I haven’t seen him since end of term.”

She turned back to the records as if they didn’t bother her at all, and breathed a sigh of relief when she heard them leave the shop. She paid for the records, and stepped out onto the street. She could see the Slytherins, splitting up as they searched in the shops around the Leaky Cauldron.

Suddenly, she got pulled into an alley between two of the shops. She yelped in shock, but wasn’t really surprised when she saw Sirius making shushing motions at her.

“Are they still there?”

“What the fuck, Black!”

“Shhhh, McKinnon, and tell me if those Slytherins are still lurking around.”

She peeks out and sees them, further down the street but heading back. “Yeah, they’re still there, and headed this way. What’s your brilliant plan of escape again?”

Sirius flashes her a grin. “I’m, ah, working on it. What are those?”

He had pointed to the bag of records she had. “Muggle records. Why?”

He looks at her in surprise, and barks a quiet laugh. “Oh, that’d be bloody brilliant! Tell me, Marlene McKinnon, do you know how to use the, erm, that muggle train? The Upper Ground?”

She snorts and raises her eyebrows. “Yes, I do know how to use the Underground. Again, why?”

Sirius grins at her. “How would you like to help out a dear friend, a desperate classmate? A bosom friend, even?”

Marlene rolls her eyes. “We aren’t friends, Black. Not even close.”

He waves a hand in the air. “Semantics. Is there an Underground station nearby?”

She groans, realizing what he had in mind. “Yeah, it’s a block away, down the side street I just walked passed. You need a card, though. Muggle money.”

He pauses at that, and pulls the schoolbag off his shoulder to dig inside, muttering to himself. “I’m sure… I know Pete gave them to us… Oh where is the blasted – got it!” He holds up the card triumphantly, grinning. “So, ready for an adventure?”

She sneaks another peek at the Slytherins. They were getting closer, if they didn’t go now they would lose their window of opportunity. “We need to hurry. What’s your plan?”

He smirks as he hikes his schoolbag more snug against his body. “Why, we’re running for our lives, of course! Come on!”

With that, Sirius grabs her hand and they’re running. She hears the shouts of the Slytherins when they’re spotted, and they try to give chase. But she and Sirius have a head-start on them, and Marlene tugs him in the direction of the station. Soon enough, they’re clattering down the steps and sliding past the ticket booths.

They don’t pause to catch their breath until they’re on the platform for one of the three lines that service that station.

“You’re barking mad, you know that?” She’s grinning, though, and Sirius returns the grin as he looks over and barks like a dog in response. She smacks him on the arm, but gently. “What are you going to do now?”

He thinks about that. It looks like hard work. “Well, I can’t go home, and Jamie is still in Diagon Alley. I guess I’ll just ride the train until I’m sure they’re gone.”

He looks unsure, and she almost smacks him on the forehead for his stupidity. She reigns herself in, though, there were other people on the platform after all, and a train was approaching. “Morgana’s tits, Black, how do you even expect to get back to the Alley? You’ll get lost, or mugged, or both.”

Sirius frowns, looking insulted. “Oi! I’ll manage just fine, thank you very – Hey!”

She cuts him off by grabbing his arm and steering him towards the train that was starting to open its doors. She pushed him into a seat, and sat down next to him with an exasperated sigh.

“How is this different from my plan, McKinnon?”

She rolls her eyes again. “Because I know where I’m going, and because I’m taking you back to my house where you can hide out until we can get a hold of Potter.”

He looks shocked as Marlene glances over at him when he didn’t say anything. “At your house?”

She raises an eyebrow at him. “Calm down, my parents aren’t home. We can sit and braid each other’s hair, do our nails, maybe I’ll even introduce you to decent music.”

She was being sarcastic, she had just assumed they would sit silently or have awkward conversations. Sirius looked down at the bag of records she had, though, and his eyes were bright when he looked back up at her. “Really?”

He runs a hand through his long black hair, and she can’t bring herself to tell him she had been joking. “Yeah, Sirius. Really.”


	3. Waking Up From A Nightmare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt is 'waking up from a nightmare'. This one is set after the Second War Battle at Hogwarts, enjoy some Luna and Ginny!
> 
> tw: nightmares, reference to canon torture (the Malfoy Manor)

Ginny was awakened in the night by a strange sound. It took her a minute to realize what it was, Luna was whimpering in the bed next to hers. With so much of the castle destroyed by the fight, no one was really sleeping by house anymore. Luna had fallen asleep next to Ginny in the Great Hall and when Gin had shaken her awake, she had followed her back to the Gryffindor tower instead.

There was an empty bed next to hers, one of the students who had never come back for the school year, and Luna had fallen asleep before Ginny could even get her shoes off. Instead, she had just put a blanket over the sleeping Ravenclaw and went to her own bed.

But Ginny sat up now and could see Luna moving restlessly in her sleep. She was breathing quickly, wrapped in the throes of a nightmare and whispering something over and over. She hated seeing her friend hurt, so Ginny got up and moved quietly over to her bed.

“Luna? Luna wake up, please Luna.” Ginny touched her lightly on the shoulder, and the blonde girl’s eyes shot open with a gasp.

“No, no no no, I don’t know anything, I don’t know, please!” Luna scrambled to the corner of the bed and huddled there, knees pulled up to her chin and wide eyes staring blankly into the space past Ginny. Well, shit. What was she supposed to do now?

“Luna, can you hear me? Luna, it’s Ginny, you’re safe, I promise. I won’t let anyone hurt you, ever again.” The sincerity in her own voice surprised her, but she put that out of her mind to think about later. Luna had blinked and focused her eyes on Ginny’s face.

“Gh-Gin-Ginny?” Luna looked so lost, still trapped partially in whatever nightmare she had been trapped in. Merlin knows there were plenty to choose from this last year.

“Hey, Luna, yeah, it’s me, I’m here.” She jumps a little in surprise when the blonde lunged forward to wrap her arms around her, but she quickly settles onto the bed and hugged her back tightly. She can feel Luna shaking, and rubs her back slowly with one hand while running her other hand gently through the girl’s tangled hair. “Shh, shh, it’s alright, you’re not there anymore.”

“It was, it was so d-dark Ginny, and they would, would question us, about our family and fr-friends,” Ginny reaches for her wand on the table between their beds and immediately says a nonverbal lumos to light up the room. No one else is sleeping there yet, not that Ginny would have cared.

“Question you? You don’t mean – they didn’t –” She knows what they did to Hermione at the Manor, Dean had told her when she sat with him and Seamus after the fighting. If they had done that to Luna, poor sweet, innocent Luna –

“Use the Cruciatus C-curse? Yeah.” Luna spoke so quietly that Ginny could barely hear her. “I’m sorry, I’m okay, you can go back to sleep, I know you lost your brother in the fighting, you must be exhausted, I’m okay.”

Luna started to pull away, but Ginny hung on tight. She accio’d the pillow from where it had landed on the floor and settled it back on Luna’s bed, and gently lowered them both onto the bed. They lay wrapped up a tangle of arms and legs, just far enough away to see each other’s faces.

“I’m not going anywhere.” Ginny kissed Luna’s forehead and swept a lock of hair out of her eyes before pulling the blanket over them both. “Now sleep, I’ll keep you safe. I promise.”


	4. Reunion Hug

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, now that I've figured out how Chapter Titles work, those will be the prompt, make sense? Anyway, here's some Dean and Seamus, the best Gryffindor bros. Sent in the Room of Requirements, because I needed more than one line of them seeing each other again. Pre-slash? Just Best Bros? You get to pick.
> 
> tw: injury

Seamus heard the secret tunnel open in the Room of Requirement, and looked around when he heard Luna’s voice. He noticed the blonde, but his breath caught in his throat when saw who was climbing down behind her. Dean.

Seamus had been so worried about his friend after he had gone on the run. He had tried to be grateful that Dean had not been at Hogwarts during the reign of the Carrows, but he had spent many night unable to sleep, staring out the window wondering what Dean was doing.

And now he was here. Seamus found that he could breathe again, and let out a roar of delight as he ran over to him. Dean looked up when Seamus yelled his name, and held out his arms for the Irish boy. Seamus’ momentum carried him straight into the taller boy and they crashed into the wall with a thud.

“Dean! What are you doing here? Where did you go, what happened, are you hurt?” Dean lets out a laugh as Seamus rambles out all his questions, squeezing him hard enough to make his bruised ribs twinge in protest. He must have grimaced, because Dean released him immediately.

“Shit, are you okay? What happened to your face?” Seamus shrugged, not sure which bruises came from which punishment anymore. He looked Dean up and down, trying to see if he was injured. He looked exhausted, but Seamus didn’t see any visible injuries. He jumped when Dean lifted a hand to touch a bruise on his cheek.

“I’m okay, I was captured by Snatchers when I was on the run, but Harry got us all rescued. I was worried about you, though.”

Seamus let out a laugh. “You were on the run and captured, and you were worried about me? You need to get your priorities straight, Dean.” He paused for a second, and then continued in a quieter voice. “I was worried about you too. I know you can take care of yourself, but I couldn’t help it.”

He realized that they were still standing with their arms around each other, but couldn’t bring himself to step away. He didn’t care that there were other people in the room, he pressed himself even closer and leaned his head against the black boy’s chest. He brought one hand flat up over Dean’s heart, wanting to be able to feel his heartbeat.

Dean rested his chin on the top of Seamus’ head, and brought up a hand to cover his. Seamus shivers at this, but he gathers his Gryffindor courage and twists his hand to be palm-to-palm with Dean. He doesn’t take the final step, he can’t bring himself to link their fingers.

Dean’s head moves against his and Seamus know that he’s looking down at him. He can’t bring himself to look up at him, he just shuts his eyes and hides his face in Dean’s neck. But he smiles when Dean threads his fingers into Seamus’, and squeezes tightly.

“I don’t want to lose you again.”

“You won’t.”


	5. 5 AM

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here, have some OCD!Justin and friendly Hufflepuffs! Not sure why this is a headcanon I have, but alas here it is. Everybody has quirks, including our hard-working, good-finder 'Puffs!
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't know if that's how cleanliness-based OCD works, if I messed anything up horribly let me know!

Ernie woke up as the door shut behind Justin. The other Hufflepuffs were still sleeping and he tried to follow their example, but Justin leaving so early for several days now confused him. He got up and padded out into the common room, the sun barely peaking into the windows of the ground-level dormitory.

Justin was dusting a table, and as Ernie watched he swept crumbs into the rag he was using before shaking it out into the rubbish bin. He leaned down and straightened a rug that had gotten a bit crooked, and caught sight of Ernie as he turned around.

“Wha- Ernie! What are you doing up?” Justin tried to hide the rag behind his back, but he was fidgeting nervously with it as he glanced around the common room.

“I was going to ask you the same question.” Earnie looked over at the clock above the fireplace and winced. “Merlin, Justin, it’s only five in the morning! What is so important that you had to get up at 5 AM?”

Justin blushed. “Nothing, it doesn’t matter. Don’t worry about it.”

“Don’t worry about what?” A sleepy voice drew both boys’ attention to the girls dorm, where Susan and Hannah had just slipped out into the room.

“Nothing, Susan, now all of you just go back to sleep. Please.” Justin’s voice sounded a little panicked, and Ernie raised his hands in a calm-down gesture.

“Hey, it’s fine. We’ll go away if you want us to. But can we help?” He explained to the girls’ confused looks, “He was cleaning the common room. It would go quicker if we all worked at it.”

Ernie wasn’t sure why Justin wanted to clean the room, much less at five in the morning on a Tuesday. House-elves cleaned, after all, although they usually didn’t start until six. He had run into them last year studying for exams before classes.

Justin squinted at him, but looked more calm as he glanced between the three other Hufflepuffs. Susan and Hannah had shrugged and nodded, as if this was a normal every-day request.

“If – if you want to, I guess you can help. Never had anyone want to help before.” The second sentence was muttered quieter, but was still audible in the early morning.

“What do you want us to do?” Hannah pulled her curly hair back to keep it out of her face, and looked around the common room as if it would provide a clue.

“Just, erm, here, take this cloth and dust those tables. You can shake it on the floor if you want. Susan, do you mind sweeping?” At Susan’s head-shake, Justin produced a broom from next to a bin that Ernie hadn’t see. It was full of muggle cleaning supplies.

“Only sweep after Hannah finishes a table, otherwise crumbs will still get on the floor. Ernie, can you help me move the sofas back where they belong?”

Ernie looked at the sofas. They seemed fine to him, but he nodded anyway. “Yeah, sure man.”

They shifted the first sofa less than a foot, and Justin moved back to look at it. “Move your side forward a bit, a little more, perfect.”

As they went over to the second sofa, Justin stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“Um, thanks Ernie. For, well, for not laughing at me or anything.”

“Why would I laugh at you?”

“Most kids do. I can’t help it, the cleaning. I’ve tried, but it just makes me feel gross. My dad hated it, he thought sending me to Eton would help knock the odd habit out of me. Mum never minded so much, but she still wants me to be less obvious about it. That’s why I get up early.”

Ernie listened quietly as they shifted furniture around to a map that only Justin could see, and the girls dusted and swept.

“It’s not that weird. I have an aunt who does the same kind of thing, she says it makes her feel better.”

“Yeah, it does. Like a tightness in my chest is released.”

Hannah chimed in as she emptied the rag of crumbs one last time. “I don’t see a problem with it, especially if it makes you feel better.”

“It makes the room look much nicer, this should become a proper routine. If you don’t mind, Justin.” Susan smiled up at him, and Ernie saw Justin give her the biggest smile in return.

“No, I don’t mind. Thank you, for being so good about it all.”

Ernie slung an arm around Justin’s shoulder as they all piled onto one of the couches.

“That’s what friends are for.”


	6. "Are You Out Of Your Damn Mind?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made Lavender Not-Straight (my personal headcanon is lesbian), and I'm not even sorry. I mean, did you *see* her try and date Ron?! Those were the desperate acts of someone who has no clue what she’s doing trying to be het.
> 
> tw: homophobia, racism, classism. Lavender's mother is a peach.

Lavender was dreading going home for the summer. She knew her mum had been wanting to talk about potential suitors. She shuddered, even the word made her skin crawl. But she was almost seventeen, and only had one more year of school before she was expected to ‘marry a pureblood wizard and settle down’.

But Lavender didn’t want to settle down. And she certainly didn’t want to marry some wizard she didn’t even know. Or even some wizard she did know! She’s tried that, the whole dating thing, with Ron Weasley. It had gone horribly.

“What are you going to do?” Parvati asked quietly. She could clearly tell what Lavender was thinking, sitting across from her in a train compartment. Lavender shrugged.

“Try and put her off, I guess. There’s not much I can do, I can’t tell her…” She trailed off, well aware that there were other students sharing the train compartment with them. She wished they would just go away, but nothing could be done about that. Besides, they were almost at the station.

Once the train pulled into the station, the general chaos of disembarking gave Lavender enough privacy to hug Parvati tightly, kissing her cheek quickly when Parvati squeezed her hand and whispered 'good luck’.

“Lavender, darling, your shirt is crooked. And fix your hair, it’s a straggly mess. What have you been doing, honestly.” Her mother met her on the platform and immediately pulled out her own wand to fix her hair, since Lavender hadn’t been in the mood to make it look all pretty for the train ride. Her mother would have found something else to fuss over even if she hadn’t let her hair dry however it wanted after her shower, she always did.

Lav followed her mum to the car she always hired to drive them to and from Kings Cross. Her mother hated the floo, it was too dirty, and Lavender couldn’t apparate yet. A constant stream of chatter was directed in her general direction, but she knew her mum would keep talking whether or not she was listening.

Once they reached home, however, her mother pulled her into the study. Usually Lavender was allowed the chance to escape to her bedroom, 'changing out of her travel clothes’ or some other nonsense, but it seemed this was going to happen now. She bit back a sigh as she dropped into the chair in front of her mother.

“Don’t slouch. Now, you know we have been looking for a suitable husband for you. Have any of your classmates caught your interest, before we begin?”

Lav thought of one classmate in particular, but forced herself to shake her head. “No, mother. I tried dating Ronald Weasley, but it didn’t work out.”

“Well, at least you dated someone, and a pureblood at that. Although the Weasleys…” Her mother would have sneered, if that had been polite. Lavender sat up straight.

“Ronald was perfectly nice to me, and his sister is an amazingly talented witch. It just wasn’t going to work, he has a crush on someone else. Besides, Parvati told me –”

“I cannot believe you still associate with that Indian girl. Your father and I told you to break off your friendship with her several times, and you still haven’t done so.” Lavender watched her mother wave a hand dismissively, and her blood began to boil.

“No. I’m not doing that. Parvati is my closet friend, my only friend, and I – I love her!” Oh, she hadn’t meant to say that. Fuck.

Her mother had frozen where she sat, staring at her with wide eyes and all the color drained out of her pretty face. She waves her wand at the door, slamming it shut and probably casting silencing spells. Lavender winced. She was in for it now.

“Have you lost your damn mind?” Her mother rarely cursed, and Lavender tried to stammer out an explanation, an apology, anything. The words wouldn’t come. “You father and I will not allow this behavior. It is absolutely unacceptable! You will do as we tell you, and you will break ties completely with that– that girl, and marry the husband we select for you.”

Lavender stood up, shaking in either fear or rage, possibly both. Her mother looked taken aback. “No! I will not! I love Parvati, and she loves me! I will not marry some man so I can just stay home and have his children! I won’t!”

She stomped over to the door, but it wouldn’t budge. Drawing her wand, she tried magic outside school for the first time. Her mother’s shriek of outrage was drowned out by the doors smashing open and slamming into the walls. Lavender ran out of her room and up the stairs to her bedroom.

It was going to be a very long summer.


	7. Accident

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harry definitely was not as well-adjusted as JK made it seem. He lived in a cupboard, for Merlin's sake, and spend his entire childhood with three people who hated him. Ron, however, is a gift.
> 
> tw: referenced child abuse, PTSD

Ron woke up to glass breaking in the middle of the night. He looked around blearily and saw Harry, standing next to the water jug between their beds. There was a shattered glass at his feet, which explained the noise.

Harry was just staring down at the glass. Ron swung his legs out of the bed, and then thought better of it and sat cross-legged on his bed.

“Don’t move.” Harry gasped and he started to turn, but Ron hissed ‘don’t lift your feet!’ and he froze where he was. His eyes were wide and his face had drained of color. “Can you reach my bed without touching the floor again?”

Harry looked over and nodded mutely, and then reach out for the bed post and pulled himself up onto Ron’s bed. He was whispering something as he leaned against the headboard, and Ron moved closer to hear what it was.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it was an accident, sorry, don’t send me back, it was an accident.” The whispering continued, and Ron looked at his new best friend. His eyes were open but staring at Ron as if he couldn’t see him, and he was shaking. Ron frowned.

“Hey, yeah, it was just an accident, it’s fine. We’ll clean it up in the morning when we can see the glass. At least it’s the weekend.” Harry didn’t respond, just kept muttering to himself over and over. Ron called his name softly and reached out to touch his shoulder.

Harry flinched. He pressed himself further against the headboard as he scrambled away from Ron, and Ron yanked his hand back as if he had been burned. Harry was staring directly at him now, silent now except for quick gasps of breath. Ron held his hands up in a placating gesture.

“Hey, Harry, it’s just Ron. Are you okay?” He saw some of the wildness leave Harry’s eyes, now flickering between the broken glass and Ron. 'Say something, Harry.“

"I’ll clean it up.” Harry whispered, some of the color returning to the half-Indian boy’s face. He moved as if to get up from Ron’s bed, but Ron shook his head. “We’ll clean it up in the morning, yeah? It’s too dark, we might step on some of the glass.”

Harry shrugged as if this wasn’t a big deal to him, still looking at the glass. “Aunt Petunia is gonna be so angry.” Ron’s brow furrowed. What did Harry’s muggle aunt have to do with anything?

“Why would your aunt care? She’s not here. Besides, it was just a little glass."

"I spent two days in my cupboard for dropping a plate once.” Harry said this like it was supposed to make sense, but Ron was even more confused now. What cupboard?

Harry looks at Ron when he voices this question, forgetting about the glass for a minute. “I sleep in the cupboard under the stairs. Do you not have one of those?”

Ron nodded. “No, we do. But we keep shoes and cloaks in there. You mean you slept there?”

It was Harry’s turn to nod, grimacing. “I’m not supposed to talk about it, sorry. But yeah. And stayed in there for punishments, too.”

Punishments. “Like dropping a plate.” Harry nodded. “Is that normal among the muggles?”

Harry shrugged one shoulder. “I dunno, maybe.” He was avoiding Ron’s eyes, and Ron knew he was lying. Fred and George had done the same thing, until they got better at lying. Ron wasn’t sure what to do next, but he wanted to reassure his friend that everything would be fine.

“Harry, can I – can I hug you?” Ron blushed as he asked, but he knew hugs always made him feel better when he was upset. He wished his mum was here, she gave great hugs.

Harry stared at him, confused. “What? Why?” Ron shrugged, not sure how to explain. He thought of something.

“You know what a hug is, right?” Ron let out a sigh of relief when Harry rolled his eyes.

“Of course I know what a hug is. Aunt Petunia hugs Dudley all the time.”

“But not you?” Harry slowly shakes his head, looking like he was trying to remember if he had been hugged before. Something twinges in Ron’s chest.

“Okay, so I’m going to hug you now.” Ron moved slowly and enfolded the other boy in his arms. It took a second, but Harry returned the hug and relaxed, the last bit of tension leaving his body. Ron sat back and looked at his friend. “Okay, mate?”

Harry nodded, smiling slightly. “Yeah. Hey, uh, thanks. I can go back to my own bed now if you want to get some sleep.”

Ron shrugged. “You could just sleep here if you want. The bed is big enough.”

After looking at the glass one more time, Harry agreed and they both got into the bed. Ron reached down and pulled the covers over them, and Harry sighed contentedly. His eyes were halfway shut, but he managed to look over at Ron one more time.

“Don’t tell anyone, please? About the cupboard? Promise me? I’m not sleeping there anymore, they gave me Dudley’s second bedroom when the letters started coming.”

Ron nodded. “I won’t, I promise. But write to me if they do that again, and we’ll come get you. Promise?”

Harry smiled. “Yeah, I promise.” He yawned then, and his eyes slid shut. “'Night Ron.”

Ron tucked the blankets in closer around them both, and resolved to write his mom in the morning. He would keep his promise to Harry, but he wanted to make sure it would be okay for Harry to spend the holidays at the Burrow. “Goodnight, Harry.”

He closed his eyes and let sleep take him away to pleasant dreams and memories, glad not for the first time that he had made friends with the famous Harry Potter three weeks ago. Ron wouldn’t trade their friendship for the world.


	8. "I Thought You Were Dead"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fantastic Beasts joins the drabbles, have some Credence love! Set after the first movie, because I refused to believe he died.   
>  (And then previews for the second movie, and all that)
> 
> tw: child abuse

Credence felt nothing at first. Being dead wasn’t white light and pearly gates and angels, like Ma had said, or even fire and demons like she had threatened. He was weightless, drifting high above the streets of New York. He wasn’t sure how he knew it was New York, or even how he could see it, but he didn’t let himself think about it. He was dead after all, so it didn’t matter…

The first thing he saw when he opened his eyes was the destruction of the Second Salemer’s house. Credence recognized the building even now, even pressed into a corner of the second floor. His old bedroom. It looked like a devil-wind had torn through, bed broken and windows shattered.

How he had gotten here he didn’t know. He remembered the man, the wizard who was going to teach him. And there had been another wizard, the one with kind eyes. The one who knew the lady who had saved him before. And then he had felt so many things he couldn’t possibly describe all the feelings that had coursed through his body, and then – nothing.

Well, not nothing, exactly. He remembers flashes of scenery, views of the city the way the birds must see it. But that was impossible. Making things up was a sin, Ma always said so.

Ma. Credence wasn’t sure what had happened to her, there had been… a fight? It was all fuzzy, he didn’t –

Suddenly there was a noise downstairs, and Credence froze. Instinct took over and he pressed himself even further against the wall, head bowed, hardly daring to breathe. Ma? Or Chastity?

No, it was a man’s voice. Talking, and a woman responding as they moved through the house. He heard the creak of the steps and shut his eyes tightly, making himself as small as possibly.

“I swear, Tina, I saw part of the Obscurial get away. I’m not losing another one, not if there’s a chance to help him.”

“I know, I believe you Newt. Would I be here if I didn’t? Don’t give me that look, I’m not just keeping a watch on you on Madam President’s orders. I want to help Credence too.”

They wanted to help him? He must have heard wrong, why would anyone want to help him? He was wrong, he had the darkness inside, he was an abomination. He heard the voices get to the top of the stairs. He thought he recognized them as belonging to the nice lady and the man with kind eyes and a funny accent.

“We’ll have to check each room. Be careful, the whole building is unstable.”

“I know, Newt. I’ll start over here.” He heard the woman, Tina, move further away from his hiding spot, and he let out a sigh of relief. Suddenly, though, there were footsteps on the other side of the wall coming towards the door to his room. He heard his name.

“Credence? It’s alright, Credence, I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to help –” The voice cut off abruptly, and Credence risked opening his eyes. The man was standing in the room’s entrance, the door having been blown backward off its hinges. He was looking at Credence. He ducked his head back down, hoping he wasn’t about to get arrested for the destruction.

“Hey there, Credence, my name’s Newt. Newt Scamander. Are you alright?” The man fell silent, and Credence glanced up when he didn’t speak more or move closer. Mr. Scamander was crouched in the doorway, looking expectantly at Credence, and he realized he was supposed to answer. What had been the question again?

“Are you alright?” The man asked again in his gentle soothing voice. Credence nodded, and Mr. Scamander smiled. “Can I come in, Credence?”

Could he? Of course he could, he was an adult. He could do whatever he wanted, and Credence wouldn’t be able to stop him. He never had been able to stop them before, not Ma or Mr. Graves, or any of the other Second Salem boys. He realized with a start that Mr. Scamander was still waiting for his response. He nodded mutely.

“Tina, I found him.” The man called before stepping into the room. He walked carefully and slowly over to Credence, who fought down the urge to slide away from him. Mr. Scamander crouched down so they were at eye level several feet apart. Credence was waiting with bated breath for the other man to do something, but he just sat there, looking at Credence.

He heard footsteps in the hallway and flinched, then realized it was probably just the woman. Sure enough, the nice lady came in a few seconds later.

“Oh, Credence, I thought you were dead for sure!” Ms. Tina hurried over towards him, but stopped next to Newt – Mr. Scamander, that is – when he held up a hand and grabbed her wrist to keep her from moving forward. He dropped it instantly, but Credence stared at her wrist waiting for bruises to appear. “Are you okay, honey?”

His eyes jerked up to hers, but he could only nod in response to her question. She was staring at him intently, with an emotion Credence couldn’t quite name written across her entire face. Sympathy? Pity?

“Would you like to come with us?” Mr. Scamander asked him quietly, as if he was afraid Credence would bolt. That was silly, he had nowhere to go even if he could get to the window or door. “This house is about to come crumbling down, I fear.”

Credence looked at the pair of them for any hint of dishonesty or deception, but found nothing on the faces before him but some kind of worry. About what he might do, perhaps, if they left him alone. Or the people he could hurt.

His best bet was probably to go with them, they could control the monster inside him. And they had magic. He still longed to see more magic, even if Mr. Graves was right and he couldn’t be taught.

Credence opened his mouth to respond and all that came out was a broken rasp, so he swallowed a few times and accepted a cup of water that Mr. Scamander handed him – where had that come from? Was that magic? He drank greedily and cleared his throat when he was done.

“Thank you, Mr. Scamander.” He spoke quietly, keeping his eyes on the floor. He did hear the man chuckle and say to call him ‘Newt’, though. Ms. Tina had crouched down near Mr. – Newt, and held out a hand toward him.

“What do you think, Credence? Want to come live with me and Newt? Well, and my sister and our friend Jacob. And Newt only for a while, then he has to leave for a bit. But he’ll be back.” Ms. Tina stopped at a nudge from Newt, and sat looking at him.

He could do this. It couldn't be any worse, could it?

“Yes please, Ms. Tina. I’d like that.” He took her hand and stood up, body aching. She told him to call her Tina much like Newt had, and Newt himself stood up too.

“Well, shall we?” He asked and Credence nodded. He allowed himself to smile as he left his home – no, it was just a house – his old house behind. Hopefully things were beginning to get better.


	9. "Do You Trust Me?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So you know when Harry tells Vernon about his convict godfather, and he goes pale? Vernon definitely realized that he knew who Harry was talking about, and it scared the hell out of him. This is that missing scene of Vernon and Petunia meeting Sirius.
> 
> Also featuring bartender!Sirius, just because I can. And because Jameson with UK-orange soda is the best drink ever. And yes, there is a difference between American and European orange soda. The Europeans win, hands down.

Sirius was ten minutes away from the end of his shift when a certain redhead walked through the doors of the muggle pub he was working at. Lily was followed in by a thin woman with brown hair and a portly man with a very impressive mustache. They picked a table, and one of the waiters went over to take their order. Lily hadn’t seen him yet, hidden half behind the bar as he was. He had picked up this job to make some pocket money for the summer before going back to school, even though Mr and Mrs Potter gave him whatever money he needed.

She seemed stressed. Every time the people she was with opened their mouths, Lily’s fingers would clench under the table. She was clearly biting her tongue, which was strange for the Lily Evans he knew. They ordered, and the kid came by to drop off their drink orders before heading into the kitchen.

The man wanted scotch, the woman wine. Sirius wondered if he even like scotch, or if he only ordered it because it was one of the more expensive items. Lily wanted a whisky ginger. At least he assumed it was the redhead, since she had never much cared for wine at Hogwarts.

Sirius found the correct drinks for the couple, and then made Lily’s whisky. He added Jameson instead of the cheaper whisky, and instead of ginger ale he poured in orange Fanta. He had discovered this drink combination a few weeks ago, and thought she would like it. He upped the whisky-soda ratio too, she looked like she needed the break. He set the drinks on the bar for the waiter when he came back, and went to go tell his boss he was leaving.

When he got back to the bar, the redhead was gone. The other two were still there, but Sirius couldn’t see Lily anywhere. He scanned the outside through the window but didn’t see her. Maybe she had escaped to the washroom.

He walked over and saw that the door was closed. He didn’t hear anything coming from inside, but when he knocked lightly a weary voice told him she would be out in just a minute.

“Evans?” Sirius called her name softly through the door, and a second later the door open and Lily stared out at him. He motioned her over into an alcove, and she followed.

“Black? What’re you doing here?” She was patting down her hair as she talked, probably trying to disguise the fact that she had almost certainly been running her fingers through it in frustration.

Sirius waved a hand in dismissal. “I got a job at the bar, I saw you guys come in. Made your drinks, too. Are you alright?”

Lily pressed her hands to her eyes. “Yeah, everything’s fine. My sister and her new husband are gracing me with their presence today because they want to talk about this garden party they’re having. Specifically who I’m not allowed to bring, which includes ‘any of the freaks in that weirdo school of yours’.”

Sirius bristled. “What?! That’s just ridiculous. There’s nothing wrong with Hogwarts!”

Lily sighed. “I know, but try convincing them that. They think that because I’m a witch they can look down on me, and insult me, and I can’t even say anything because Petunia’s my family!”

Sirius opened his mouth, but then closed it. He looked at Lily and saw the frustration in her eyes, the barely-held-back anger.

“Do you trust me?”

Her eyes narrowed at that, and he grinned. “No, I absolutely do not, whatever you’re planning, Black, don’t do it.”

“Come on, Evans, it’ll be fun. I’m just going to have some polite conversation with your sister and her walrus of a husband. Nothing untoward, I promise.”

She still looked uneasy, but the beginnings of a smile were starting to show on her lips.

“Lily. It’ll be fine. They’re arseholes, I just want to give them a taste of their own medicine.”

She sighed. “I’m going to regret this. Come on, then.”

Leading Sirius to the table, she sat down. “Petunia, Vernon, this is my friend Sirius.”

He slid into the seat next to her and used all of his Black family training to shake Vernon’s hand while giving him a once-over and finding him lacking. Vernon seemed thrown off by the subtle look of disdain Sirius had allowed to cross his features, and he tried to start up a conversation to cover it up.

“What do you do for a living, Sirius?” Lily tensed up beside him, but he laid a hand over hers under the table before answering.

“What do I do? I don’t need to do anything, although I sometimes allow the press to ask for my opinion on important matters.” Lily squeezes his hand but Sirius avoids looking at her when she starts to talk.

“Yes, Sirius’ family has been influential in the government for years. He has quite the aptitude for politics, and has risen to one of their most important people in the few short years he’s been out of school.” Sirius was careful to keep a blank expression on his face. Vernon had turned to him with respectful admiration in his eyes.

“Oh, where did you go to school, Mr –?” Petunia was looking at Lily with suspicion, but Sirius just waved a hand in the air as if he was bored.

“Black. Sirius Black.” He leans forward and gets directly into Vernon’s face, letting his voice drop to a dangerous tone. “I went to Hogwarts, you insufferable prick, and if you ever speak insults about my school or Lily or her friends again, I will find you and I will curse you with the worst magic I can find. And then I’ll bring the wrath of the Ministry down on your head.”

Vernon and Petunia had both gone pale, but Sirius paid them no mind as he sat back. He turned toward Lily, who was doing an admirable job of keeping a straight face.

“Alright, Lils, I’m off, very important meetings. But here, dinner’s on me.” He pulled out a fancy wallet James had gotten him and handed Lily several of the higher-numbered muggle bills. He stood up and dusted his jacket off, nodding to Vernon and Petunia coolly. “Pleasure, I’m sure.”

Sirius leaned down and kissed Lily’s cheek, squeezing her shoulder lightly. “Ta, darling!”

He turned and walked out the door without a second glance.

A few days later, an owl showed up with a letter for him.

Sirius – Here’s the same amount of money you gave me. How the hell did you learn to act like that? They left as soon as they finished eating, I think you scared the piss out of them. Thank you, really. – Lily

P.S. What the hell did you put in my drink?! It was amazing.

Sirius grinned. She really wasn’t that bad. James was never going to believe that he got a letter from Lily Evans.


	10. Sharing Looks From Across The Room

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Patil twins being split up at age eleven, and their thoughts on the Hogwarts-House-is-your-family idea.

Padma walked nervously to the Ravenclaw table after being sorted. She could hear her sister’s name being called behind her, and she hurried to sit down so that she could watch. She saw Parvati, a perfect reflection of herself, sitting on the stool with the hat on her head.

Oh, she hoped her twin would be a Ravenclaw too. Padma had always done everything with Parvati, they were inseparable. They wore similar clothes, the same hair styles, they even had the same necklace. One of the broken-heart muggle ones, Padma’s says Forever and Parvati’s says Sisters. She sat up when the Sorting Hat opened its mouth.

“GRYFFINDOR!”

Her heart sank. The table next to her cheered loudly, and she watched as Parvati walked over to them and sat down next to another of the first year girls. Her sister looked over at her from across the two tables and smiled thinly, but it didn’t reach her eyes like it usually did. She swallowed down her disappointment and smiled back, but she knew her sister saw through it.

She remembered the train ride, how they had giggled about decorating their dorm room and wondering about who they would room with. It hadn’t even crossed their minds that they would be split up until a tall black boy in their compartment was asking an Irish boy if siblings were always in the same house.

And now here they were, in two separate houses.

Padma remembered what that Professor had told them before going in to the hall. ‘Your house will be your family, you’ll eat with your house and spend your free time in your house common room.’ But Padma refused to accept this, and she could tell by the steely glint in Parvati’s eyes as she touched her necklace that she wouldn’t either. Her house would never be as much her family as her sister was.

No, they would still do things together. They could split time between two common room, whenever their break schedules permitted. She wondered if they would be able to eat at the same table or spend the night in each other’s dorms, sharing a bed like they used to when they were younger.

Who decided on such stupid rules anyway? Why shouldn’t they have friends in other houses? Who could really stop them if they did? The teachers couldn’t watch everything that was going on all the time, surely. They would just have to be smart about it.

Padma realized with a start that food had appeared on the table, and everyone else had already started eating. She grabbed some of the broccoli and cheese soup near her, but wasn’t really hungry. Being separated from her twin had stolen what appetite she had from the long train ride.

Eventually all the food disappeared, and then desserts came and went in their turn. Padma watched as the Headmaster stood up and released them, and she hurried over to stand near her sister as the groups were ushered out. Parvati reached over and squeezed her hand tight, locking eyes with her.

“Don’t worry, we’ll figure something out. I promise.” Padma nodded, unable to speak a single word. Her sister didn’t need her to, though. Parvati always knew what she was thinking.

“I won’t let them split us up. Sisters Forever and Forever Sisters, remember?” She touches her necklace and Padma reaches up to touch her own, echoing her sister.

“Sisters Forever and Forever Sisters. You’re right.” The Ravenclaws and Gryffindors started to split up in two directions, and Padma grabbed her sister in a tight hug. “Love you.”

“Love you. See you at breakfast.” And then the Gryffindors were gone, and Padma had to run to catch up to the Ravenclaws. She slowed down as she reached them and tried to calm her breath. It’s okay, they would be okay.

One day at a time.


	11. Lazy Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the Slytherin common room on a lazy Friday night. It's not only Hufflepuffs who can be nice to each other, remember!

Draco was just finishing an essay for Professor Sprout when he heard his name being yelled from across the room.

“Oi, Malfoy! Get over here, no homework past seven on Fridays.” He glances at the clock and rolls his eyes.

“It’s only five after, Theo, calm down.” He rolls up his parchment and moves to where his friends are sprawled out by the fire. “And don’t call me Malfoy, I hate that.”

Millie looks up at him from where she’s perched on the edge of the sofa, getting her hair braided by Blaise and her fingernails painted by Pansy. “Shut the fuck up Draco, and sit down.”

He sits on the other end next to Pansy and lays his head in her lap, swinging his legs over the armrest. “Play with my hair?”

“In a minute, I’m almost done.” She’s on the last nail, a dark red color that pops against Millicent’s tanned skin. Draco turns to face outward and looks to see what the others are up to. Vince is drawing something from where he sits on the floor next to Theo’s chair, the other boy browsing the bookcase next to his seat. Greg is in the other armchair, tapping his fingers on the arm while he hums something softly and watches Blaise.

“What do you want to read tonight?” Theo asks, pulling two books out of the bookcase and showing them to the group. Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, and The Fellowship of the Ring.

“Ooh, Tolkein! We finished The Hobbit last year, I want to know what happens next.” Pansy had finished blowing on Millie’s wet nails and had started running her fingers through Draco’s blonde hair, lifting his head to put a pillow under it. Her fingers felt amazing, and he hums in approval of both her actions and the book choice.

“Yeah, the Fellowship.” Greg’s quiet voice went along with Vince’s nod as he continued sketching.

“Who’s reading first? Not Draco this time, he’s been staring at parchment for the last hour.” Millie got up from the sofa and allowed Blaise to swing off the top edge, sitting back down as he moved over to sit crosslegged in front of Greg.

“I will, if you braid my hair. Last time I let Millie do it, it took me ten minutes to untangle.” Greg and Theo grin at Millicent when Blaise says that, but Millie just flips him a two-fingered salute. “Fuck off, Zabini, I told you I had no idea what I was doing. Who wants their nails done?”

Theo passes the book over to Blaise as he gets up to sit on the arm of the sofa. “Just my toes, I don’t want – yeah.”

Greg pulls Blaise’s hair out of a ponytail as he frowns, but Vince spoke up before he could open his mouth. “No one cares if you get your fingernails painted bright pink if that’s what you want, Theo. And if they do, just send me and Greg after them.” Greg nodded in agreement.

Blaise cut in before Theo was done opening and closing his mouth as he tried to come up with a response. “Come on, guys, settle down. Theo, pick a color and toes or hands or both, Pansy pass me that cushion. Everyone ready? Comfortable? Can I start?”

With a chorus of ‘yes’ from the group, he turned to the first page and cleared his throat.

“Chapter One, A Long-Expected Party.”


	12. Chasing Insecurities

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No one loves Ron Weasley more than drunk Harry Potter.

Harry looked around the common room, the party in full swing after he defeated the Horntail. Everyone was laughing and talking loudly, and Fred and George had disappeared and come back with a crate of firewhisky.

He saw Ron sitting in an armchair by the fire. Harry held onto the empty bottle in his hand as he stood up, stumbling slightly as he walked over to his best friend. They had been fighting, and Harry hated it. He stopped next to Ron’s chair, grabbing onto the back to stay on his feet.

“R-R-Ronald. Ron. Arrrr you hafin’ fuuun?”

Ron twists around to look at him, and Harry saw a look of pain in his eyes. He reaches out and tries to pat his cheek, but misses and just moves his hand in the air.

“Are you drunk? Harry?” Ron reaches out and grabs his hand so he doesn’t get smacked in the face, and Harry giggles and leans against the chair, dropping the empty bottle. “Did you drink all that yourself?”

“Yeee-sh, I thinks I am. Erm, it was fuller before. Are you an-ger-ery with me Ron?” Ron sighs, and motions to an armchair next to his.

“Sit down before you fall down, Harry.” Instead of sitting in that armchair, Harry perches on the arm of Ron’s chair, leaning against his shoulder. Ron huffs a laugh, and wraps an arm around Harry to keep him steady. “Well, that works. Of course I’m not angry with you. Anymore, at least.”

“But you hate me.”

“No, I don’t. I was just, I was frustrated. You always get to do the dangerous things, and I just have to sit on the sidelines. Then we finally had a competition neither of us could do, and you still managed to get in. Hermione says I’m being insecure and jealous. I guess she’s right, she usually is.”

Harry grins. “She usually is, our Hermione. I didn’t, though, I didn’t want to –” Ron cuts him off.

“I know, I think whoever put your name in that Goblet wants you dead or something, I mean, that dragon…”

“It wasn’ tha'bad. But, Ron. Ronald. I don’ think yur a s-sidekick or whatever. I needs you and ‘Mione to help me. Re-mmember tha’ chess game? And, and, and you came wi’ me to da spiderss and you hates spiders. Because I neededed you. Yu'r my best mate, my firs’ friend.”

Harry was sliding off the armchair as he spoke until he was practically talking into Ron’s ear and laying on top of him. Ron shifted underneath him, grinning widely.

“You’re drunk, mate. But, uhh, thanks. It, erm, it means a lot.” Harry grins back at him and leans his head against Ron’s shoulder. “Come on, let’s get you up to bed. Maybe some water, you’re as drunk as I’ve ever seen Charlie.”

Harry pouted when Ron pushed himself up out of the chair, falling further into it until Ron pulls him up by the arms. He leans on Ron and wraps an arm around his back. “M’ best friend. Right?”

Ron laughs and tucks Harry against his chest. “Right. Now let’s get you some water, hmm?”


	13. Packing A Suitcase

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not actually very good at staying on-prompt, I've accepted this about myself. But have some trans!Anthony and trans-and-autistic!Luna, with some supportive Ravenclaws.
> 
> tw: transphobia

Luna sat on top of a low bookcase, listening to all the chatter in the common room. It was the last day before the summer holidays, and everyone was packing frantically. There were half-open suitcases scattered everywhere, and bookcases were being scoured for volumes to take home.

“Who has that book on hippogriffs?”

“Oh, I have that one Sabrina! Just a second, I’ll grab it for you.”

“Penny, have you seen my copy of Magical Plants and Fungi?”

“I think you left it over by the statue last week, Terry.”

Students were scurrying everywhere, swapping books and quills and pieces of parchment. The buzzing sounded almost like a nest of nargles, but there was no mistletoe that Luna could see. Someone comes up and kneels down at the bookcase she’s perched on, looking up at her.

“Alright Luna?” She looks down from the ceiling and smiles softly.

“Oh yes, I’m fine Anthony, just looking for nargles.” The boy in question nods, running his fingers down the spine of some of the books by her knee. “Are you looking forward to going home?”

He winces. “And go back to being Antoinette all the time? Not really.”

Luna reaches down and pats his head, playing with his long curls. “Why not just be Anthony? I did, when I told my father I was Luna.”

He sighs, resting his forehead on the books in front of him. “Not all of us can have your luck, Luna. Or an accepting family, especially a Jewish one. No, best if I just get used to it.”

“We should do something to make them notice.”

“Like what?”

“Cut your hair.”

Anthony stares at her, but she thought it made perfect sense. Unless this was one of those social cues she was never getting. She opens her mouth to say something, but someone else speaks before she can.

“Whose hair are we cutting?” Sabrina came over with a parchment in her hand that she slides into the bookcase. Anthony looks over at her and shakes his head.

“No one, don’t worry about it Fawcett.”

“Sabrina, we need to cut Anthony’s hair so his parents will realize he’s a boy.” Luna hops down from the bookcase and leans against Sabrina, who wraps an arm around her to stay upright.

“We can do that, I know where the books for cosmetic spells are. Do you want to, 'Tony?”

Anthony stared at them, and Luna looks imploringly at the second year student.

“I – well, yes, but I shouldn’t. My family –” But Sabrina shook her head.

“We’ll come up with something. An experiment gone wrong that burned a chunk of, so we had to fix it and even it out. It will be fine, we’ll back you up.”

Terry spoke up from where he was watching them, trying to stuff a book on defensive jinxes into an already bulging bag. “We’ve got your back, Tony, you know that. Just let 'Brina cut it, she’ll make it look nice.”

Anthony looks around the common room, at all the Ravenclaws who are nodding along, packing forgotten. Luna reaches out and takes his hand. She nods at him, and he gulps and nods slowly in return.

“Okay, but not too short, yeah? And then we need to get back to work, it’ll take us all day to pack at this rate.” Several students clear off a chair and put it in the center of the room, and Penelope produces a pair of small muggle scissors when Sabrina asks if anyone has any hair-cutting supplies.

Anthony sits down in the chair, and Luna sits at his feet. She squeezes his hand when he looks worried, and he smiles at her.

“Okay, let’s do this.”

Afterwards, Anthony sat in front of a mirror and admired his new haircut. It was one of the longer boy styles, reaching down to the nape of his neck in soft curls. Luna sits down and tucks her knees to her chin. He puts an arm around her and she leans into him.

“Thank you, Luna. You are an inspiration to us all. Never change who you are.”


	14. Kissing In The Rain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have some genderfluid!Tonks and my favorite polyamorous threesome of Bill, Tonks, and Fleur.

Tonks had needed some air, so she escaped out into the yard of the Burrow. It was starting to rain, so at least she knew no one would bother her. Mrs. Weasley was at her tricks again, and trying to play oblivious was getting harder and harder.

Well, Molly, but Tonks had spent so much time at Hogwarts with Charlie, and by extension Bill, that calling her anything other than ‘Mrs. Weasley’ was difficult. Tonks knew she was brooding, but she thought no one would notice with all of the wedding preparations going on. Even though the wedding was a month away.

Speaking of the wedding. Tonks spotted a slim figure coming out of the shed and running across the yard to avoid getting wet. Fleur almost made it too, but she slipped a few feet from Tonks. She reached out and caught the younger woman, pulling her gently under the overhang of the henhouse.

Fleur shrieked at first, she clearly hadn’t seen Tonks standing there. She leaned against the henhouse to catch her breath.

“Merci, Nymph- Tonks. What are you doing out ‘ere?” Tonks had thrown her a glare when she had started to say 'Nymphadora’, but now she looked away, not sure how to explain.

“Mrs. Weasley is being a tad – overwhelming?” Tonks heard Fleur snort and looked over at the sound.

“Mrs. Weasley wants you t’ marry my Bill, didn’t you know? I thought zat was obvious.” Fleur’s eyes flashed angrily, but Tonks thought she looked beautiful when she was angry. “But you don’t like hem zat way, do you?”

Tonks opened her mouth to deny it, but instead what came out was “I think you’re both very lucky to have found each other.”

Fleur’s eyes narrowed. “Zat was not an answer. Do you like my Bill?”

Tonks looked out at the rain, pouring down now in sheets across the yard. “Well, yes. I do like Bill. But I also like you.”

She was shocked at her own straightforwardness. Tonks avoided looking at her, but was sure that Fleur was staring at her. Her question took Tonks by surprise.

“And it’s not just my looks or ze veela blood? Although it doesn’t usually work on girls.”

Tonks shrugged. “I mean, your looks are one thing. But the veela bit, I’m not sure? I’m not always a girl.” Fleur looked confused when Tonks glanced her way. “Metamorphmagus. I can change my hair, yeah, but I can also change my body. Watch.”

She thinks hard, and in the blink of an eye has shifted into her usual masculine form. She knew her shoulders had broadened, because her shirt was suddenly tight across a flat chest, but her face usually stayed relatively feminine in that 'pretty boy’ way.

Fleur gasped, and then reached out a hand but pulled it back quickly.

“It’s okay, you can touch. It freaks some people out, so usually I don’t show people both. My family, of course, and Charlie. And Bill. So, does your veela magic work?”

Fleur runs a light finger across Tonks’ chest, and Tonks shivers slightly. “I'z not magic, but do you suddenly feel the need to flirt outrageously with me?”

Tonks grins at that. “Yes, but no more than usual, so I don’t think it’s a magic compulsion.” Fleur smacks her arm, and she swoops in and kisses her check just because she can. Fleur giggles.

“I can see why ze Weasleys like you now. Improper and mischievous, you fit right in.”

Suddenly a person is coming around the side of the house, and Tonks freezes. It’s only Bill though, and he heads towards them through the rain. Tonks closes her eyes and prepares to shift back, but Fleur puts a hand on her wrist. “Wait, please.”

“What are you two doing out here, mum is convinced you’ve drowned in the rain.” Bill only spares a glance for Tonks’ male form, but his eyes linger on the hand on her wrist. “Is everything alright?”

“Tonks and I are testing the impact of my veela charm on her -- him?" Tonks mutters that 'her' is fine at a look from Fleur. "It doesn’t work on her either. She also said she likes both of us.”

Tonks groaned, cursing the French girl for her boldness. Bill just looks between them, licks his lips once, and says “Okay.”

Now it’s Tonks’ turn to look between him and a grinning Fleur. “Wait, what? I’m confused.”

Fleur moves forward and kisses Bill hard, causing him to stumble out into the rain. She follows, but the hand wrapped around Tonks’ kept them from moving very far. She turns and grins at Tonks, seeming not to notice the rain.

“I liked you when we first met, but Molly kept trying to set you up wi’ Bill and I got jealous. But sharing equally? Zat I can do. Now come 'ere.”

Fleur pulls on Tonks’ wrist, and she follows the tug out into the rain. Bill is grinning too, and catches Tonks’ other hand. “Just kiss her already, Nym. And then me.”

So she does. She kisses Fleur, and the French girl sighs into the kiss happily. Then she turns to Bill but pauses, looking down at her male body. “Are you sure –”

Bill closes the gap between them and kisses her hard, male body and all. He whispers against her lips. “I’m sure, but change back if you want.”

She does, and then Bill is kissing her again in exactly the same way. When they pull away from the kiss Fleur is pouting at them, looking cute even with rain sliding down her long hair.

“Where i'z my second kiss?” Bill laughs and pushes Tonks towards her.

“Hurry up and kiss her and then we have to get inside, before mum sends more people out to look for us.”

Tonks does as she’s told and kisses Fleur a second time. As they walk back to the Burrow, Tonks brings up the question all of them are thinking.

“What the hell do we tell Molly?”

Fleur shrugs, leaning against Tonks as they walk. “We’ll just have to find someone for you, zen she won’t know a thing.”

They stop on the front stoop to cast drying spells on clothes and hair and shoes. Bill grins as he dries Fleur’s hair with a flick his wand.

“What about Lupin?”

Tonks shook her head. “Nah, he’s… Wait. That could actually work.” At Fleur’s confused look, Tonks explains. “Remus is gay. Well, bisexual technically, but he and Sirius were shacked up for forever. Let me talk to him.”

She grins as Fleur kisses her cheek as she passes to go inside, and Bill follows her example. Tonks turns around and looks at the rain beyond the porch.

“Thank you.” She whispers to the rain and the universe, and follows the others inside.


	15. Prayer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have far too many Slytherin headcanons. HoH!Theo who knows sign language is one of them. The entire concept of a window to the lake to see and sign to Merpeople is from a tumblr post, and I love it.
> 
> tw: family member death, grieving
> 
> Also I know very little about the structure of ASL, and next to nothing about BSL. Hopefully it reads okay.

Theo walked away from the loud group of Slytherins sitting by the fire. After a crazy week of classes, the first year needed some space and time to himself. He wasn’t used to socializing with this many people, and his ears had begun to ring with too much noise.

He saw a section of the wall that looked different next to a corner bookcase, and he put his hands on it and pressed lightly. He gasped softly when the wall gave way and opened into a long corridor. One side of the corridor was regular stone, but the other was made of glass.

Theo knew the common room was under the lake, but knowing it and seeing it was too different things. He sat in front of the glass and stared out at the scene before him. Gillyweed waved in the currents and while fish of all types swam through, and he even thought he saw a few merpeople in the distance. It was blissfully silent.

His mother would have loved this.

He felt the sting of tears, and tried to swallow them back. She’d been gone six months and Theo had spent every minute missing her, alone in their manor house except when his father decided to show up and the servants who kept the house perfect. She had loved the water, always taking him swimming whenever she could.

“I’m sorry, Mum.” He prays that she can hear him in death, even if she couldn’t during her life. Or see him and understand, as she so often did. “I don’t think I can do this. Not without you. Everything is so different, how did you do it? It’s all so… chaotic, I can’t keep track of it all.”

He’s crying now, and when he can’t talk through his tears his hands take over, signing a scared boy’s prayer to his dead mother. How much he misses her, and loves her, and wishes she were here. Theo sees something move through the glass.

It’s a merman. His long hair flows in the water, a black waving shadow against his dark skin. He’s watching Theo’s hands and face intently. When Theo stutters to a stop and wipes his eyes on his robe he had laid next to him, the merman lifted his own hands.

‘You okay?’

Theo stared. Was he dreaming? Had he hit his head? How did this merman know BSL?

The merman signed again, brows furrowed deeper, and Theo raised his hands.

‘Yes. I am fine. Who are you?’

'I called Nimlex by human, who you?’

'Theo. Theo Nott.’

'What wrong Theo Nott?’

'Nothing. I miss my mum. She’s dead. How did you learn sign?’

'Sorry of mother. Many years ago, taught by young witch here. Name was Helen.’

Theo felt his hands drop as he stared at the merman. His mother’s name had been Helen. When he told the merman this, a look of sadness crossed Nimlex’s face and he put his hand gently on the glass. Theo placed his own hand over the merman’s.

'Must go. Bring others tomorrow.’

Theo nodded and said goodbye. When he turned to leave he saw Blaise, Draco, and Pansy standing in the open entrance. He’d forgotten to close it.

“What were you doing?” Blaise asked.

“Talking to the merman, obviously Blaise. The question is, how?” Pansy narrowed her eyes at Theo.

“Sign language. My mother taught them apparently when she was at school here.”

“Your mother is deaf?” Draco asked, and Theo nodded.

“She was, yeah. She died six months ago.” He figured he’d better get the 'sorry’s’ over with, but the other three just nodded, looking at the lake. Finally Pansy spoke up.

“Can you teach me?” Theo looked over at her, but she seemed genuine.

“Uh, yeah, I guess so.”

Blaise opened his mouth, but Draco spoke quicker. “Can you teach all of us?”

Theo grinned.

“Yeah. Okay, sit down. Here’s the alphabet.”


	16. "Can I Tell You A Secret?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Girl talk at Grimmuald Place! Ginny is totally crushing on Luna, and Hermione isn't sure what she wants in a relationship.

Hermione woke up with a start. She thought she heard someone say something, but it was silent in her bedroom at Number Twelve. She looked over at Ginny’s side of the bed and saw the younger girl watching her, eyes shining from the reflection of the streetlight outside.

“Ginny? Are you alright? What’s wrong?”

Ginny sighs. “I – I don’t know. I just can’t sleep.”

“Something on your mind? Or maybe, someone?”

Hermione smiles when Ginny blushes. She loved the younger girl like a sister, and she knew that Ginny had always had a soft spot for Harry. She may have gotten over the embarrassing crush she had on him, but that didn’t mean all her feelings were gone.

“It’s, well, it’s complicated.” Ginny seemed strangely hesitant, which strikes Hermione as odd.

“How so?”

Ginny sighs again, and looks at her for so long that Hermione was afraid she had fallen asleep with her eyes open. Just as she was about to call her name, though, Ginny spoke.

“Can I tell you a secret? You can’t tell Ron, or Harry. Or mum.” Hermione’s brows furrow in concern, Ginny had never asked her anything like this before. She was usually extremely open and blunt about, well, everything.

She nods. “Of course. I won’t tell anyone. I promise.”

Ginny closes her eyes tight and takes a deep breath. “I think I like girls.” She whispers it so quietly that Hermione has to strain her ears to hear it, even a few feet away.

She thinks about this revelation for a minute. Does it really surprise her? Not really, Ginny had always seemed like ‘another one of the boys’, and comments she made about girls were always just shrugged off as things someone who has six brothers would say.

Does she think it’s wrong, like so many muggles and wizards do? Not at all. She shares a dorm with Lavender and Parvati, after all. Those two had been going at it since third year, so Hermione had plenty of time to get used to the idea. Merlin, even she had experimented once or twice.

She realizes that Ginny’s eyes are still shut, that she’s waiting for a response. “So, ah, who’s the girl?”

Ginny’s eyes fly open, and she opens and closes her mouth a few times. Finally she manages to get a single word out.

“What?!”

Hermione shrugs as well as she can lying down. “If teasing you about liking Harry leads to an admission that you like girls, clearly you fancy someone. Do I know them?”

Ginny’s eyebrows crease. “Um, I still like Harry. I mean, not like I did before, but I still find guys attractive. I just, well, I think I like girls too?”

Hermione snorts quietly. “Don’t sound so shocked, it’s possibly to like both males and females, I’m sure you know this.”

Ginny nods. “Well, yeah, I know about bisexual people. I just didn’t think it would be… me.”

“Alright, Ginevra, don’t change the subject. Who. Is. The. Girl?” She smirks a little as Ginny blushes.

“She’s in my year, a Ravenclaw. Completely got her head in the clouds, but there’s just something about her. I dunno, she just comes up with the craziest things to say, but at the same time she’s so innocent you just want to wrap her up in a blanket and hide her from all the terrible things that are happening. She – what?”

Hermione was grinning now, watching Ginny’s eyes light up as she talks about her crush. She was happy for her, it was hard to admit something like that to oneself, much less to another person.

“You sound absolutely besotted. Are you going to ask her out?”

Ginny blanches white, her eyes wide. “No? I mean, I’m not! Why would I – Do you think I should? I don’t even know if she, if she likes girls! What if she laughs at me?”

That last sentence is said in a whisper, and Hermione’s heart twinges a little as she reaches out and takes Ginny’s hand. The pale skin shines as Hermione holds it in her own dark hand.

“I think, if she’s really as amazing as you described, than she won’t have a problem with it. And if she does, then you don’t need her as a friend. But if she feels the same way than you’ve skipped at least two more years of pining.”

Ginny snorts a laugh, and squeezes Hermione’s hand. “So I can miss out on the mutual pining like you and Ron? Come on, Granger, you know you fancy him and want to marry him.”

It’s Hermione’s turn to blush. She does like Ron, but it’s not the everlasting love that people talk about. She’s not sure she even wants that, even though she admits to herself that she would like to date him. But go all the way and marry him, that she wasn’t sure about.

Flirting with Viktor had been nice, but he was much more interested in, well, other pursuits than she had been and that had fizzled out into a friendship instead. And she like that, but she also didn’t want to give up her friendship with Ron to be, what, his girlfriend?

Ginny elbowed her, and she jumped back to their conversation with a start.

“I, well alright, I do want to date him. I’m not sure about anything further than that, though. Besides, he’s so oblivious I’m not sure he would notice if I put a sign saying 'DATE ME RONALD’ around my neck.”

Ginny giggles. “I’m pretty sure you did that, last year at the Ball. He’ll come around, boys can be idiots sometime.”

She smiles at that. “They sure can be, can’t they?”

Ginny yawns, and Hermione follows suit. She pats Ginny’s hand one more time before releasing it to pull her side of the covers up more.

“Alright, it’s bedtime. Again. Think you’ll be able to sleep now?”

Ginny nods. “Yeah. And thanks, 'Mione. Uh, but don’t tell anyone, remember?”

“I won’t. And you’re welcome. Any time, just come talk to me. Good night.”

“Good night.”

Within minutes, Hermione can hear Ginny’s breathing deepen. She smiles to herself before following the younger girl into the land of dreams.


	17. "I Know It Hurts"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is set after the first Fantastic Beasts drabble, and is hella angsty. I blame my friend Sas for this, we were talking about cats and then it ended up in 'what would legilimens-Queenie think if she met Credence?' (One of my cats names is Queenie).
> 
> tw: past child abuse

Queenie bustled around their kitchen, making soup for the boy Tina and Newt had said they were going to find. They had gotten home a few minutes ago, but they had taken Credence directly upstairs and Queenie hadn’t had the chance to meet him yet. So she was going to take him some food, and introduce herself.

She put some of Jacob’s pastries on the tray and floated it up the stair in front of her, but took it in her hands as she approached the door. She could hear Tina talking softly as she knocked, but she swung the door open before her sister could let her in.

“Hello there, I’m –”

“Queenie, wait!” Tina’s cry seemed to echo in her head as she stuttered to a halt in the doorway. The tray slipped from her fingers, but Queenie barely noticed as Tina magic’d it to safety on a table nearby. Her world had shrunk to the boy sitting on the bed.

Credence. She had known he was a Second Salemer, and probably abused by that evil woman, but she hadn’t known the – the extent of it. Even knowing that he was the Obscurial hadn’t prepared her for what she saw in his mind.

His mind was in shreds. Memories swirled faster and faster, memories of beatings, lessons, sermons on the evils of magic. Grief and despair intermingled with uncontrollable rage, and fear. So much fear.

Fear of his mother, that horrible woman. Fear of a man who Queenie recognized as Percival Graves. Fear of being sent to bed without supper again if he didn’t hand out all the pamphlets. Fear of the magic that he wanted so desperately but knew he couldn’t have. Fear that he was as defective as his ma said when she was listing all his sins. Even a spike of fear when Queenie had knocked on the door. But most of all, fear that he was the monster that had destroyed all those homes and killed those people. Fear that he deserved to be destroyed himself.

Queenie blinked, and she was in front of the boy without realizing she had moved. He watched her through wary eyes, and tears came to her own as she reached out a hand slowly to cup his cheek.

“Oh you poor thing, I’m so sorry. I’m not gonna hurt ya. No one should eva’ have ta go through all that. You are not a monster, Credence, you’re not defective.”

He stared at her in astonishment, and then silent tears began to slide down his cheeks. Queenie felt his exhaustion, and the stress of the last few days catching up with him. She felt his confusion as she talked gently to him and touched him with an even gentler hand. That confusion tore at her heart, and she gathered the boy into a hug as he cried, too worn out to resist.

“Shh, it’s alright honey. I know it hurts, I know. You’re so brave, Credence.” She rubbed his back gently as he clung to her and cried. Cried about his mother, cried about his house, cried about magic he could never have. She whispered soothing nothings, and he eventually let go of the tight grip he had on her.

She heard him mutter something. “What was that dear?”

He looks up at her for a split second before his eyes jump back to the bed. “I’m not hurt, ma'am. You said you knows it hurt, but I’m not.”

Queenie smiled sadly at this young man. “Not every hurt is physical, Credence. You might not be hurt or bruised, but your mind and heart have been hurt by so many people.”

He just sits there, but the whiteness of his knuckles gives validation to her statement.

“You’ll never be hurt here, Credence. Not like you were. You don’t have to feel that way ever again.”

He reaches out and hugs her quickly, letting go before she can even move her own arms. She smiles softly and gets up from the bed, going over to collect the soup that Tina set down before she left them alone.

“Now, how would ya like something ta eat?”


	18. An Unfortunate Howler

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, this one got kinda dark. We don't know anything about Crabbe and Goyle, and I think that's a shame. So, I added some of my headcanons. (I know, MORE Slytherin headcanons from this Ravenclaw... Sorry not sorry.)
> 
> tw: verbal child abuse, survivor guilt, family death

Greg walked into the dorm he shared with the other Slytherin boys. He just needed to grab an extra quill, Draco broke his and was too lazy to do anything but whine about it. Instead, he saw a bird lying on his bed with a familiar-looking red envelope in its mouth. His stomach dropped. It was a Howler.

He knew the point of them was too humiliate the student, and he idly wondered why it came to the dorms instead of to the Great Hall like that Gryffindor kid’s had earlier in the year. He watched it begin to smoke, doing nothing to stop it or get it over with as he stood against the closed door. Soon enough, the envelope burst into flames and he heard his Mother’s voice.

“GREGORY. I HAVE RECEIVED AN OWL FROM SEVERUS SNAPE INFORMING ME THAT YOUR POTIONS GRADES HAVE BEEN DISMAL THIS YEAR. YOU WILL IMPROVE OR YOUR FATHER WILL HAVE SOMETHING TO SAY ABOUT IT. WE DO NOT TOLERATE SLOW-WITTED CHILDREN, YOUR BROTHER WAS ALWAYS SO MUCH BETTER THAN YOU. IF ONLY HE WAS THE ONE CARRYING ON OUR LEGACY, THEN WE WOULD NOT NEED TO HAVE A DISAPPOINTMENT LIKE YOU BLUSTERING AROUND FAILING HIS POTIONS EXAM. DO BETTER BY CHRISTMAS OR YOU WILL HAVE TO DEAL WITH THE CONSEQUENCES."

The howler tore itself up and the owl swooped out the open window, but Greg barely noticed. He stood there, shaking and staring at his bed without seeing it. He knew why Slytherin parents sent Howlers to the dorms now, threats like that were not for anyone to hear except other Slytherins.

His brother. She always had to bring up his brother. She knew just how to cut him down, and she did it well. He could take the insults that he was stupid and ugly and not a fit heir to the family name, he was used to those. But the taunts about his perfect older brother were always the worst, because –

A knock on door snapped Greg out of his thoughts, and he stared at it.

"Greg? Are you alright in there? We heard shouting. Can I come in?” He turned and opened the door when Vincent asked, and his friend stepped into the room. “Is everything okay?”

Greg couldn’t speak. He watched as Vince scanned the room and caught sight of the red pieces of the Howler against his green bedcovers. Vince scowled and walked over, picking up the pieces and setting them on fire until the crumbled into ashes on the floor.

“What did your mother have to say this time?”

He repeated the gist of what she said, how he was failing potions and Snape had written her and how he was a bumbling idiot. Vince walked over to stand next to him, careful not to touch.

“Well that’s just stupid, you’re not an idiot! You just learn differently, that’s all. And at least one of those wasn’t your fault, remember that firework Snape found in the Swelling Potion? I still think he shouldn’t have given you a zero for that.”

Greg cracked a smile at his friend’s indignant expression, but it felt brittle. Vince noticed too, and he was looking at him with concern.

“Was that all she said?” He asked gently, and Greg shook his head.

“She said I would never live up to the family legacy, and that - that she wish Gell was still here to be a better heir.”

Vince went pale. “She didn’t – what the hell? That wasn’t your fault either! I was there, he was the one that decided to try climbing that high. Hell, you told him not to! I can’t believe –”

“It’s okay, Vince. I’ll never measure up to the perfect older brother, I bet they wish I had been the one to slip.” Vincent shook his head, but Greg knew the truth. It didn’t matter whatever he did, he would never match up to the brother who never got to graduate Hogwarts.

“Come on, let’s go back. The others are in the Lake Room, we’ll forget about homework tonight. You can ask Blaise to help you study for potions tomorrow, yeah?”

Greg nodded, and followed Vince out of the room. He was grateful for his friend, even though he knew he would never be strong enough to stand up to his family like Vince talked about doing. For now, though, he was just going to worry about one day at a time.


	19. Cabin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey look, I wrote some fluff! Well, mostly. So, I hope I'm not the only one who was dissatisfied with the Trolley Witch nonsense in Cursed Child. I gave her a new backstory instead, hope you like it! Takes place after Regulus steals the locket and before the chapter where he's at the Potters.

Regulus came awake slowly. The first thing he noticed was the warmth, hadn’t he been cold before? So cold, and wet. He felt dry. Was this what death was, warm and dry even for someone like him?

He managed to open his eyes a little, and saw a timber roof above his head. This wasn’t the cave, where the fuck was he? He didn’t think he was dead, he was in too much pain to be dead. Unless this was a very strange version of Christianity’s Hell. A voice across the room made him turn his head slowly, groaning as his muscles ached.

“Hello, dear. I’m so glad you’re not dead. It was touch and go for a while there, it was.” A plump little old lady was sitting in a chair next to the bed Reg realized he was lying in. He shut his eyes and opened them again, wondering if he was hallucinating, but she was still there smiling at him.

“Who – who are you? What is this place?” Regulus’ throat was raw, and he winced. He had been screaming, he remembered. Screaming and sobbing, begging someone to help him, begging Kreacher to go, ordering him to. He shuddered it all came back to him, the cave, the goblet. The locket.

“Oh dear, how very rude of me. My name is – ah, Valerie? Or maybe Valencia. I, ah, I don’t seem to remember, it’s been so long since someone has asked me that. My wife used to call me Val, I supposed that works. I’m Val, and this is Somewhere Safe. It’s my home, do you like it?”

Reg looked around the cabin. It was nice and homey, the kind of place he and Sirius used to imagine when they read those muggle books they had found at the park once. “It’s a nice place, yes. Why did you name it ‘Somewhere Safe’?”

Val chuckled. “So that when a witch or wizard has nowhere else to go and they apparate desperately to somewhere safe, even if they can’t picture a place, it will bring them here. Just like it brought you.”

Regulus nodded slowly, thinking this information over. “That’s rather brilliant of you, honestly. You’re a witch then? Oh, my name is – call me Reggie.” He didn’t want anyone to find him, and Sirius’ old nickname was the first thing that he could come up with.

She shook her head, smiling sadly. “Oh no, dearie, I’m not a witch. I’m a squib. My wife was a witch, though. She was the Minister, many many years ago.”

A squib? Reg had never met a squib before. She seemed nice, though, although his hackles raised when he heard that her wife used to be the Minister. His eyes must have widened in alarm, because Val chuckled softly while digging in the bag next to her.

“It’s alright, dearie. Reggie, that’s a nice name. My Ottaline has been dead for a long time, and no one from the government even remembers her. Here, drink this potion. It’s just a simple healing brew.”

Regulus took the potion and drank it. A shiver ran through his body, and suddenly he felt much better. “Thank you, Val. I don’t mean to be a bother, I can leave –”

“Don’t be silly. You haven’t had anything to eat in three days. Wait here, I’ll bring you some food.” She got up and left the room, and Reg sat up in the bed. The cabin’s room he found himself in was tidy and simple, with several wooden chairs and a table, a chest and the bed he slept in. He swung his legs out of the bed, and found himself still wearing the robes he wore to the cave. He searched the pockets, and breathed a sigh of relief when he felt cold metal and thin wood in one of them.

Val came bustling back in, rolling a cart that looked like the trolleys on the Hogwarts Express. Actually, that was definitely…

“Is that a chocolate frog? Why do you have one of the carts from the train?” He squinted at her as she reached down and pulled a frog off the side of the trolley, but took it when she handed it to him.

“Of course it is. Why, because I run the trolley service! All those snacks have to get organized somewhere, and I certainly can’t do it on the train.”

You – you’re the Trolley Witch?“ He had never noticed the witch, only enough to hand her his money. Now he was struck by how lonely that must be for her.

"That’s right. Now, best be eating this here soup, and then it’s back to bed with you. It’s only safe to stay here a short while, do you have somewhere you could go tomorrow evening? I can get a portkey set up to anywhere in the United Kingdom. Friends in high places, you know.”

She handed him some soup and he ate it while he thought. Did he have a place to go? He needed to run. But he also needed a way to get rid of the locket. Maybe Dumbledore? No. But Sirius –

Another no. Sirius would kill him, and he would have good reason to. He had said awful things to him after Sirius left, envious that he could go live with the Potters.

The Potters. James had always been decent to him, and Lily had left him alone any time she found him in the shadows by the Gryffindor tower. She understood what having siblings was like, he had heard her talking about her sister with one of the other Gryffindor girls.

Maybe they would at least let him stay for a night, long enough to figure out where he’s going next. He licked the last spoonful of soup and handed it back to Val.

“Yeah, I think I know a place. Or someone who might help. Are you sure – I mean, don’t you want some company?”

The witch smiled as she put the bowl on the trolley and indicated that he should lie down again. “Ah, don’t worry none about me, dearie. I’ll be fine, I’m always getting visitors, lost boys and girls like yourself. But you’re always welcome to pop by for a visit, Reggie.”

He yawned as he laid back down and she settled the covers around him, something no one had done for him since Siri went to Hogwarts. He smiled as she kissed his forehead and bade him goodnight.

“Good night, Val. And thank you. For everything. For being somewhere safe.”

He heard her leaving the room and moving around in the kitchen. Regulus smiled at the ceiling until his eyes got too heavy to stay open and he slipped back to sleep.


	20. Forgetting Something

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to my headcanon of Neville being hit by the same curse as his parents, thus being the root of his memory problems (there's more to that, but it's even more depressing). Sorry not sorry? Luna makes everything better.
> 
> tw: verbal child abuse

Neville stood at the window on the second floor, staring out at the lake. The water was calm that day, and he watched as the other students streamed out to journey to Hogsmeade. He wished he could join them.

“Hello there.” Neville turns and sees a blonde girl standing behind him.

“Er, hello.” The girl was wearing Ravenclaw robes and, were those radish earrings?

“Why are you staring out that window? Are you looking for something?”

Neville glances back out the window, and shakes his head. “No, I’m not looking for anything out there.”

“Well, what are you looking for in here then? Everyone’s always looking for something, even if they don’t realize it.” Her big round eyes blink innocently at him, and he finds himself pausing to think about that. It made a kind of sense, in a whimsical round-about way.

“I’m, well, I think I’m looking for memory.”

The girl nods as if this was a perfectly normal thing to say. “Any memory in particular? Or just better memories?”

Neville shrugs. “No, I’m just always forgetting something. My great-uncle Alfie says I’m lucky that I can even remember my own name sometimes.”

The girl tilts her head. “That seems rather rude of your great-uncle, if you ask me. Being forgetful isn’t a bad thing.”

“It is when you get punished for never being able to remember the passwords for the common room.”

“Oh, I heard about that. You wrote them on a slip of paper, right? And then lost it?”

“I didn’t lose it! It was on my nightstand, and then when I woke up it was gone!”

“Do you know who might have taken it?” Neville blinks at her in surprise.

“You – you believe me?”

She nods her head, “Of course I do. Why wouldn’t I?”

“No one ever believes me. You should hear my family – you forgot it again, it’s not that difficult, why can’t you just remember, are you sure you’re a wizard?” Neville was ashamed to feel the prickle of tears in his eyes.

“I believe you. Besides, didn’t that criminal man end up with the paper? Maybe he can talk to wrackspurts, and they did his bidding and flew the paper to him. They’re invisible, you know.” She pulls out a pair of odd-looking glasses and peers at him through them, and then puts them away. “No, I don’t see any.”

“See any what?” Neville wasn’t sure what the younger girl was talking about, but she believed him. That was all that mattered.

“Wrackspurts. They cause a person’s brain to go all fuzzy, I thought that might be the cause of your memory problems.”

“No, I – I know what caused them. Well, initially. I was hurt by a dangerous curse when I was a year old, but my parents got me to safety. It messed up their brains too, but all the healers said I would get better. I did, I guess, but my memory is still awful.” He’s not sure why he’s telling a stranger all this, he never tells anyone about his parents and the Cruciatus curse that has affected all of their lives.

She’s watching him, but he doesn’t see pity. He sees a girl thinking as if he were a puzzle, her eyebrows furrowed in thought.

“Have you tried thinking about things a different way? That works for me.”

“Like what?”

“Well, what’s your favorite class?” He answers with Herbology, and she nods. “Whenever you have to remember a password or an assignment, trying relating it to something about Herbology. Here, give me a word, anything.”

“Um, flabbergasted.” He has no idea what she was trying to do, but she grins.

“Okay, so flabbergasted. Professor Sprout would be flabbergasted if you ate a flubberworm.”

Okay, what? “Yes, probably. Now what does that have to do with a password?”

“Shh. Now tell me about your favorite thing about Herbology this week.” By the time Neville stops talking about the Venomous Tentacula he had helped Professor Sprout plant, several minutes had passed.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to take up your time.” Neville feels guilty, but she dismisses it with a wave of her hand.

“What was the word we talked about?”

Neville’s mind went blank. A word? How could he remember a single word? He isn’t good enough to remember anything, he knows that – He feels a hand on his, and looks down at the girl. She says something, a single word but not the word she'd asked for. Herbology.

Herbology. Professor Sprout. Flubberworms. She was confused, angry? No. She was –

“Flabbergasted!” Neville grins as the girl nods, matching his grin with a wide smile of her own.

“Very good! Congratulations, you found a memory. Now, I’m supposed to be in the library. I’ll see you around.”

She slides past him, and he turns quickly. “Wait, what’s your name?”

“Luna.” She stops too, looking back to him.

“Thank you Luna. I’m Neville.”

“Hello Neville. You’re welcome.”

She continues down the hallway without another word, and he turns back to the window grinning. What an interesting girl. But she had taught him something new.

She had taught him how to remember.


	21. "Don't Lie To Yourself"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here's some Peter Pettigrew love. There's not enough of that, so here's my take on a catalyst that would lead to Peter ending up in the Death Eaters' circle. I fully believe that he didn't realize what was happening until he was in too deep, and then he didn't know what to do to get out. He is a self-professed coward, which is a perfectly acceptable character flaw, even for a Gryffindor.
> 
> tw: drug use, family illness

Peter sat against the castle wall watching his friends have a good time. James had finally snared Evans, and she was leaning against him laughing at Sirius. Remus was trying to read against the tree nearby, but Sirius kept distracting him as he tried to chase pigeons in human form.

“Don’t they all look positively happy.” A lanky Slytherin that Peter vaguely recognized sat down near him, holding what Peter definitely recognized as a joint. They were in a shadowy nook, and Peter knew the teachers wouldn't be able to see them until they stepped in. That’s why he’d chosen this spot. Apparently he and his friends weren’t the only ones that used it.

“What – what do you mean?” Peter stammered out, talking to new people made him nervous. He eyed the joint, and the Slytherin offered it to him with a smirk as he gestured towards the lake where his friends sat. Peter took a hit from the blunt, exhaling as he passed it back to its owner.

“Those are your friends, right? They don’t seem to be missing you very much.” Peter shook his head as the Slytherin took his own turn with the joint and leaned his head back against the castle wall.

“They just don’t know I’m out of detention yet. I was scrubbing cauldrons down in the potions classroom.”

“What did you do?”

“Well, James and Sirius levitated all the cauldrons in the Potions classroom.” He motioned for the blunt, and the Slytherin – Peter thought his name was Barty, a few years younger than them – passed it over.

“So you were taking the punishment for something you didn’t even do?”

“I don’t mind. James had Quidditch practice last night, he would have been too tired, and Sirius –” Sirius was obsessing over Remus, who had just gotten out of the hospital after another moon, but Peter couldn’t tell this boy that. “I helped them come up with the idea, so it’s only fair.”

Barty snorted as he took a drag, and looked over at the lake. “Don’t lie to yourself, Peter. They’re just using you as a fall-guy, they don’t care about you. Especially now that they have significant others. Who needs the fifth wheel?”

Peter shook his head as he looked over at his friends, he knew they cared for him. Sirius was laying in Remus’ lap as he read and played with his boyfriend’s long silky hair, and James was braiding Lily’s auburn hair as she talked, telling some kind of story. They looked so happy, that was why he had sat here in the first place. He hadn’t wanted to disturb them with the letter he had gotten.

“What’s that?” Almost as if he could read Peter’s mind, the Slytherin pointed at a letter he had in his lap. It was from his parents.

“A letter. My mum isn’t doing very well.” He passed it over to Barty in exchange for the joint, breathing in deeply as he watched the boy read his dad’s neat handwriting.

“I’m sorry, Peter. That’s rubbish, she can’t go to St Mungo’s?”

He shook his head. “No, it’s some kind of muggle disease, the Healers can’t figure out what’s wrong.”

Barty finished off the last of the blunt, and dusted his hands off before standing up.

“Well, I know where some firewhisky is, if you’re a brave enough lion to enter the serpent’s lair.” He held a hand out to Peter, who took it gratefully as he stood up.

He knew there was firewhisky in their dorms too, but it was no fun to drink alone. He didn’t need to disturb his friends, they wouldn’t miss him if he only had a few drinks. He nodded at Barty.

“Sure, why not?”


	22. Lying On The Other's Pillow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Could be Scorbus, could be affectionate bros. I'll let you all decide.
> 
> tw: bullying, homophobia

Albus walked into the Slytherin dorm after brushing his teeth to find a certain Malfoy lounging on his bed. Scorpius might call it sitting, but Al knew better. No one just sat on a bed that way, legs crossed at the ankle and hands tucked under his head as he watch Albus move around.

Scorpius was already in his pajamas, a rich green silk that was surprisingly soft. Albus crossed to the chest in front of his bed and rummaged through it to find his own sleep attire, an old t-shirt and sweatpants. He changed quickly and went to sit on the other side of his bed.

“Why are you lounging on my bed?” Scorpius’ eyes flickered to his face from where he had been focusing on the ceiling as Albus changed, the prude.

“I am not lounging, I’m sitting.” His eyes narrowed and Albus had to resist the temptation to roll his eyes. Rather stubborn, Scorpius was. It wasn’t worth arguing.

“Yeah yeah, whatever you say. Are you going to move over, or just hog all the space on the bed?”

Scorpius sighed dramatically and slid to one side of the bed, taking Albus’ pillow with him. Albus laid down on top of the covers as well and turned to face him, propped up on an elbow. “Why must you lay on my pillow? You could bring over your own pillow.”

Scorpius made a face at him and put a protective arm across Al’s pillow. “Nope, this one’s mine. Tonight, anyway.”

“Yes, alright, but why?”

“It smells like you. Irish Spring and ink and safety.”

“Wha– how do you know what soap I used?” There were several in the bathroom, and Albus had no idea what kind Scorpius used.

The finely arched eyebrow and twitch of Scorpius’ lip looked odd as he hugged Albus’ pillow. “You always use the same kind, Albus. Four years and you’ve never changed what soap scent you use.”

“I’m sure I have – no, you’re probably right. You usually are about details like that. But are you okay?”

Scorpius nodded, eyelids shuttering a little as he looked away from Albus. “Yes, I’m fine. Just had a little bit of a run-in with a few Hufflepuff boys.”

“Who? I’ll fight them. What did they do? What did they say?” Albus felt a surge of energy, how dare anyone insult his best friend! Scorpius reached out and took his hand, uncurling it from the fist Albus hadn’t noticed he’s been making.

“It’s fine, it wasn’t anything serious. Just the usual cracks about how I’m a flamboyant nerd who hangs around the Slytherin Potter to feel noticed.” Scorpius had turned to face him, and Albus saw him roll his eyes.

“Well, I’ll still beat them up if you want.”

“Mmm no, let’s just go to sleep.” Scorpius pulls at the blanket underneath them until to come loose with some amount of wiggling and throws it over both of them.

“How am I supposed to sleep when you’ve stolen my pillow?!” Albus pretended to be outraged, and succeeded in making Scorpius giggle.

“Steal mine then.” A wand wave later and his pillow came hurtling towards Albus’ face, who caught it just in time.

“Careful, glasses!” Scorpius shrugged, smirking, and Albus put the other boy’s pillow under his own head. “Goodnight, Scorpius.”

“Goodnight, Albus.”


	23. "Everyone Is Falling In Love"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here, have some Ace!Neville and helpful Hannah having a chat.

Hannah heard someone in the greenhouse. Which wasn’t unusual, as the greenhouses were a favorite for the couples trying to have some alone time and the smokers trying to hide the habit. But it was one o'clock in the morning on a Wednesday, and the person sounded like they had been trying their best not to be heard.

“Hallo? Is someone there?” Whoever it was didn’t respond, and Hannah sighed. “I am a Prefect, show yourself before I start taking points!”

A shadow by the sleeping Tentacula moved and stepped into the light, careful of the plant next to him. He was the last person Hannah had expected to see down here at this time of night.

“Neville? What are you doing here?” The boy in question shrugged, avoiding her gaze until she stepped closer to get a better look at him. He didn’t look hurt or jinxed, and she didn’t think he was the type to come down and smoke weed or hook up with someone.

His eyes flickered to hers, and she saw some kind of emotion before it was locked away behind that stupid Gryffindor pride. “N-nothing, I was just thinking.”

“It’s one o'clock in the morning, you know that?”

“Is it? I must have lost track of time, sorry Hannah.”

She shrugged, not all that bothered by it. “It’s fine. Do you want to talk about it?”

Neville’s expression grew wary, and his eyes flickered over her face. “Talk about what?”

She shrugged again. “Whatever has you bothered and hiding in greenhouses. Come help me feed the bowtruckles, though.”

With that she turned to gather up their food, and heard Neville moving behind her. He took the bucket from her and she led the way over to the tree that had most of their bowtruckle colony. They set the bucket down and watched for a minute as bowtruckles swarmed it, feeding and snapping at each other.

“I don’t know what to do.”

“About what?” She didn’t look at him, keeping her eyes firmly on the tree’s occupants.

“Everyone is falling in love, and I’m not.” She did glance over at her year-mate at that, but he was staring away and blushing profusely. She knew better than to tease him.

“There’s no rule to falling in love, is there?”

“Well, no. But even Ron is dating someone, and I don’t even think of anyone I would want to date.”

Hannah giggled. “Yeah, I heard about Lavender. Never thought I’d see her dating a guy.”

At Neville’s confused look, she stage-whispered, “She and Parvati have been sneaking out and hooking up since last year. They say they don’t want to annoy their housemates by doing it in the dorms.”

Neville blushed at that and Hannah grinned. “So you don’t fancy anyone? What about Ginny, you went to the ball with her last year didn’t you?”

“Yeah, I did. I mean, Ginny is really nice but I don’t want to date her.” She didn’t want to date him either, the way Hannah heard it she had her sights on a Ravenclaw, but she didn’t share this insight with Neville.

“I think any girl – or guy – would be lucky to have you as their boyfriend. But you don’t have to date or whatever if you don’t want to, there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Th-there’s not?” Hannah shook her head.

“Nope. Susan told me her aunt has never dated anyone, she didn’t want to either. And she’s done pretty well for herself at the Ministry.”

Neville let out a sigh. “Thanks Hannah. My family have all been bugging me about it, usually I can tune them out but I’ve gotten three letters this week!”

She winced in sympathy. “Family can be obnoxious like that. Well here, I know just what will take your mind off it.” Hannah leaned down towards the bowtruckles and wiggled her hand invitingly. One of them broke away and came over to perch on her palm, chittering away.

She turned toward Neville, who was looking at the little creature with amazement. She offered her hand to him, and he put his hand next to it and watched the bowtruckle hesitantly jump to his palm.

“This is Posy. She’s very nice, I promise.”

Posy was chittering at Neville, and he stood listening with a smile on his face. He glanced over at her, and she grinned at how happy he looked.

“I like her. Thank you, Hannah.”

“You’re welcome, Neville. I’m gonna head to bed, my round is over, but you can stay as long as you want. Lock up behind you when you leave.”

Neville nodded, gaze back on Posy. “Yeah, okay.”

She grinned again and slipped out of the greenhouse. Midnight rounds were always interesting, and this one had been no exception.


	24. "I Met You On The Worst Day Of My Life"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have some reminiscing witch teachers! Yes I did make them all queer, I have no regrets. And made Pomfrey and Hooch not white, and used Poppy as a nickname. Sirius definitely heard them call her Minnie one day. Also 'Friend of Mrs. King’ was apparently the British version of 'Friend of Dorothy’, aka gay-af, back in the middle of the 20th century.

Minerva sat in the Three Broomsticks with Poppy and Rolanda after the second war was finally over. Rosmerta had poured them all drinks, and the three witches had moved to sit in some of the pub’s more comfortable chairs. They has been so busy with everything going on that if felt like they hadn’t seen each other in days. They stared into their drinks, comfortable enough to let silence wash over them.

Minerva was the first to break the silence. Thinking about the war led to other thoughts, and she couldn’t bear to wallow in dark memories alone.

“I met you on the worst day of my life.” Or it had been, for many many years. She wasn’t sure if that was still the case, so many horrible things had happened. Poppy and Rolanda looked over at her, curious but still quiet, letting her speak when she was ready. She was grateful they knew her so well.

“You remember that first night in that bar?”

The flying instructor smiled. “Of course we do. You looked so sad, we knew we had to do something to cheer you up.”

“Buying her another drink doesn’t count.” Poppy nudged Rolanda, who laughed softly.

“Of course it does. Free drinks cheer everyone up. Especially when she had just walked away from her first love.”

Minerva smiled ruefully. “No, I did appreciate it. I just was so damn heartbroken that I didn’t know where to go, and technically that was my first drink, not ‘another’.”

She remembers getting off the train from Scotland, tears still running down her face as she disembarked. She had told Dougal that she couldn’t marry him, but couldn’t tell the muggle boy why. And that lie had torn her own parents’ marriage apart, so she left as quickly as possible with only a small handbag charmed to hold all her prized possessions.

She had wandered aimlessly through the wizard quarter of London, walking even when it began pouring. She eventually had ducked into a shabby little pub, and sat at a corner table without buying anything but a glass of water. Staring at the table’s scorched wood, she hadn’t noticed the passage of time until a tan hand slid a pint into her view.

She had glanced up, startled, and saw two women in front of her with drinks of their own. The closer woman was tall and lithe, with piercing eyes that look almost yellow in the low light. Behind her was a shorter woman with darker skin than her companion and kind eyes.

“You look like you could use a drink.” The first woman had sat down in a chair across from her, grinning and ducking to avoid a swat from her friend.

“She already has a drink, Lani.”

“Well, unless that’s vodka – which it’s not – it doesn’t count, Poppy.”

The shorter woman had slide into the remaining chair with a sigh, smiling ruefully at Minerva. “Sorry about my friend, dear. Rolanda is very stubborn, it’s best to just go along with her. You don’t have to drink it if you don’t want to. I’m Poppaea.”

Minerva had picked up the drink and taken a swallow of what turned out to be scotch mixed with what tasted like ginger. The burn as it slid down her throat was nice, almost making her cough.

“Thank you. I’m Minerva.”

“You’re also soaking wet, do you have dry clothes?”

Rolanda had rolled her eyes at Poppaea. “Don’t nag at her, we just met!” She turned to Minerva with a shrug. “She’s training to be a healer. But she’s right, do you at least have a cloak?”

Minerva hadn’t noticed her soaked clothes or hair until these women had pointed it out, and began shivering as if her body had been just waiting for someone to say something.

“I have clothes in my bag but I, um, I don’t have anywhere to change.” She hadn’t wanted to look at them, so she’d stared at her hands wrapped around the drink.

“Leave home in a hurry?”

“Yeah, you could say that.” She had whispered, blinking back tears that threatened to fall. Rolanda had put a hand on her shoulder, her sharp features softening.

“Did they kick you out for being a friend of Mrs. King?” Minerva had blinked at her, confused.

“A friend of who? My parents didn’t kick me out, I left because I fell in love with a muggle boy and he asked me to marry him.” The glance that passed between the other two women hadn’t gone unnoticed by her sharp eyes, and neither did the shrug Poppaea gave Rolanda.

“We have a house a few streets away, if you want to change there and get warm. Then you can tell us all about this muggle and why you ran away from him.”

She had gone with them and it had begun a chapter in her life that was filled with contentment, even if she wanted to do something other than work at the Ministry. Then a job at Hogwarts had opened up, and Poppy and Lani had convinced her to apply at her old school.

She had agreed that she would, but only if they would come with her.

Rolanda’s voice snapped her back to the present, in a different pub far in the future from that day. “You were naive enough back then that you would probably still be drinking only gillywater if we hadn’t showed up, Minnie.”

Minerva rolled her eyes at Lani and the nickname. “I’d had alcohol before! I just prefer water. The naivety was all about, oh, what was the slang back then, Mrs. King?”

Poppy giggled. “Yeah, that was the one, Merlin forbid that we had to hide that we were gay. Or like both men and women, in your case.”

Lani snorted. “What did they think three women living alone in one flat were doing? People can be so oblivious.”

Minerva nodded. “That’s true. But at least the newer generations don’t have to hide as much as we did.”

“I’ll drink to that.” All three women raised their glasses and drank, imagining a bright future ahead of them.


	25. One (Or Both) Is Injured

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here, have some Quidditch players that were not actually injured playing Quidditch. Blame it all on a magic cup
> 
> tw: injury

Cedric looked over as someone walked into the medic tent, calling Madam Pomfrey away from treating his burn. He heard her speaking to someone, and then the name she said caused his stomach to lurch. Potter. Harry had been injured.

He wished he could see what was going on past the canvas wall of the cubicle he was in. How badly hurt was he? What on earth were the teachers thinking, letting the fourteen-year-old compete? Who cares what some dusty old cup says?

Then someone else came into the tent, and he heard Cho’s voice. “Madam Pomfrey, one of the girls has fainted, they need your help out there!”

Cedric smirked as the nurse swore again about dragons, and heard footsteps hurry out of the tent. He moved around his cubicle then, and saw Harry and Cho standing there. Cho matched his smirk, her well-practiced hysterics were very useful for getting out of situations. Harry just looked confused.

“What’s going on?” Cedric ignored the question and walked over to him, looking him up and down for injuries. He seemed okay, although his shirt was torn and a half-healed scratch peaked out. He heard Cho walk up behind him and turned his head so she could look at the burn.

“You’ll live. It doesn’t even look bad enough to scar that pretty face of yours.” She teased him, knowing he was vain about his looks, and he rolled his eyes at her.

“How did –”

She cut him off before he could finish. “Marietta is pretending to faint, it won’t be difficult to fake. We have probably five minutes.”

Cedric grinned. He did love his girlfriend, she was brilliant at this kind of strategy that played on people’s instincts. Harry interrupted before he could act on the thought of kissing her, though.

“What the hell is going on?” The younger boy looked between him and Cho, and Cedric saw the barely-concealed want flicker in the Gryffindor’s eyes. Another person might assume he was looking at his girlfriend and get jealous, but Ced knew better.

“We’ve been wanting a word with you, Potter. You fancy Cho.” Straight to the point, and green eyes went wide. He felt a dig in the ribs from Cho as Harry opened his mouth.

“What? No, no I don’t, I –” Cho put a hand on Hardy’s arm and he shut up instantly, looking wary.

“It’s okay, Harry. You also fancy Cedric, don’t you?” Cho had noticed when he and Harry talked one day in a corridor, and had relayed it on to him with a smile. Harry’s eyes snapped up from Cho’s hand with alarm and stared at them, filled with panic.

Cedric put his hand on Harry’s other shoulder, careful of the dragon scratch. “Hey, hey, breathe. It’s okay. We like you too.”

Cho nodded when Harry looked at her, lacing her free hand with Cedric’s so they were all touching. Well, except Harry really, who stood stiffly in front of them.

“You – wait, what? I’m – I’m confused.” Cedric laughed softly.

“Cho likes you. I like you. She likes me, I like her. You like both me and Cho. We’re asking if you want to date us. Both of us.” He thought Harry would appreciate the right-to-the-point explanation, and they didn’t have much time.

“Umm.” Harry opened and closed his mouth a few times, looking between them. “Is this a joke? Did Ron put you up to this? I know he’s mad at me, but –”

Cho shook her head. “It’s not a joke, Harry. We really would like to date you, but only if you want us. Both of us, I mean.”

Cedric cut in. “You don’t have to decide now. Think it over, I know it sounds odd. Cho, you better be leaving, Madam Pomfrey should be back soon.”

Cho nodded and kissed him on the cheek, then looked at Harry. “Whatever you decide.” She kissed him on the cheek too, and left the tent quickly.

Cedric grinned at Harry’s bewildered expression, but he could hear Madam Pomfrey saying something to Cho on her way back. Quickly he reached over and kissed Harry’s other cheek, squeezing his shoulder one more time before letting go. He winked as he turned to walk back to his cubicle.

He heard Harry exhale just as Madam Pomfrey entered, and grinned as he heard a quiet ‘fuck me’ from the other side of the wall. Maybe this tournament wasn’t such a bad idea after all.


	26. Liar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this is based of a tumblr post about a certain Hogwarts student owning a cat, and what that cat should be called. I think it's a brilliant name, and will never stop getting amusement out of the entire concept. (And then the author of said post was getting rude comments about it, of the 'oh how stupid' variety, so I wrote some fic about it.)

Draco was only at Hogwarts for a week before he regretted his choice of pet. His family already had an owl, so he had asked his mother for a cat. He had walked into the Magical Menagerie and his eye had instantly been caught by a pretty white kitten. It had sat primly on the ledge, and watched him with startlingly green eyes.

His mother had approved, and they had bought him before meeting his father at the Apothecary. Draco had flipped through names for his new pet for hours and eventually landed on Leo, the only constellation of a cat.

In the month between the trip to Diagon Alley and September 1st, Draco played with Leo constantly. He trained him how to sit on his shoulder and how to catch mice living around the manor. He learned the spells to keep white cat hair off his black robes, and how to set the litterbox to self-clean.

He took Leo with him on the train, and the Slytherins had fun playing with him in the compartment. Crabbe swore he was going to set Leo on that rat that had bit him, but Pansy said he shouldn’t. He left the cat with his friends’ animals when they went to get sorted, and found Leo curled up on an armchair when they got to the dungeon common room.

Three days later, the first person to yell “Malfoy” to get his attention was Theo, and Leo had jumped off his lap and run to the other boy. The Slytherins had all laughed, and Millie had come up with the dreaded nickname ‘Leo Meowfoy’.

Now Draco couldn’t go anywhere without someone asking where 'Meowfoy' was. He took Leo and escaped outside on the first Saturday at Hogwarts early in the morning, sitting under one of the trees and watching his cat attack leaves.

“Hello there.” His cat had bounded around the tree towards someone, and Draco got up to follow when he heard them. Famous Harry Potter had crouched down to play with Leo and Draco leaned against the tree to watch. Potter was dangling his fingers in front of his kitten’s mouth and pulling away just before Leo’s claws could grab him.

“Having fun?” Draco drawled as Potter scratched his cat’s ears. He looked up with a grin, and Draco noticed how the green of his eyes matched Leo’s eyes. He definitely hadn’t thought about that when he went to pick out Leo after meeting then-unknown Potter in Madam Malkin’s shop. He hadn’t, honestly, it was just a coincidence.

“This is your cat, Malfoy? What’s his name?” Potter’s grin had only dropped a little when he saw Draco, and looked back down to continue playing with Leo.

“Leo. His name is Leo.” The sharp bite of his tone made Draco wince even as Harry looked back up at him with an eyebrow cocked.

“You sound a little defensive there, Malfoy.”

“No, I don’t. His name. Is. Leo.” Draco sat down and clicked his fingers towards his cat, and was obliged. He picked him up and tickled his belly until he squirmed to get down.

“Liar. Not about the name you gave him, but what are the other students calling him? It must be something ridiculous to get you so snappy about it at six in the morning.”

Draco glared at him, but deflated quickly under the other boy’s grin. He watched as Leo attacked Potter’s fingers again, and always missing.

“Do you have a cat?” The question slipped out before Draco could bite it back. Harry looked over at him before shaking his head.

“No, but the neighbor who watched me when the Dursleys went out anywhere had a bunch of cats. She let me play with them sometimes, which was nice even if her house did smell like cabbage.”

“Well, you’re good with them. He likes you.” Draco wondered what it would be like to have a lot of cats. He thought it would be nice.

“Thanks. I like you too, Leo, don’t I?” He scratch Leo’s head and glanced at Draco. “Don’t distract me with cuteness, Malfoy, what are the others calling him?”

Draco groaned inwardly, but gave in under the pressure of The Boy Who Lived’s gaze.

“Meow-foy. They’re calling him Meowfoy.”

Laughter burst out of Harry, and even Draco found himself cracking a thin smile. When the laughter finally subsided, Harry scooped up Leo and looked him in the eyes.

“It has been a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Leo Meowfoy.” Draco groaned, but Potter stroked his cat one more time before handing him over and standing up.

“See you around, Malfoy. And Leo.” He waved as Potter walked off and he continued to pet his cat absentmindedly. Really, Meowfoy wasn’t that bad of a name. It was quite funny, actually.

“See you around, Potter.”


	27. "It Wasn't Your Fault"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, have another dark and angsty drabble. Set after the Battle at Hogwarts, with a certain Ministry employee who doesn't get much love in the fandom aside from the general consensus that he's a bamf.
> 
> tw: death, injury, grieving

George knew something important had happened, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. His world was crumbling around him. He was drowning, and he didn’t have his other half to rescue him. Fred was dead. Fred is dead, Fred had died. His twin had gone somewhere and George couldn’t follow.

He stared at the table, having been pushed into the seat by Percy, or was it Ron? It didn’t matter, because the most important person in George’s life was gone, and took half of George’s soul with him.

He felt a hand grip his right shoulder, and he shrugged it off. A deep voice spoke in his good ear, but George didn’t understand what it was saying. The hand moved and began lifting him out of his seat, and he stumbled to stay upright. He fell into a broad chest and made no conscious effort to get up, but suddenly he was being pulled along out of the Great Hall.

He resisted, of course he did, Fred was in there! But the other person was stronger than him, and pushed him along the corridors until they were alone. A wand was waved and suddenly there were two simple chairs, and George was pushed into one.

He blinked up at Kingsley, recognizing the man finally through the fog that lifted slightly over his brain. The words that Kingsley has been muttering all this time finally filter through George’s good ear.

“It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t your fault.” He was wrong, George knew that. He had left his twin, and look what had happened to him! He’s dead! He’s never coming back to me!

“No, he won’t come back.” He hadn’t realized he had spoken out loud until he could hear the echoes of his screams in the empty hallway. Kingsley looked calm, and he spoke in that same soothing voice he always used.

“He’s gone, but it wasn’t your fault. He wouldn’t want you to blame yourself.”

“You don’t know that.” George’s voice sounded bitter and cracked, even to him, but Kingsley just nodded.

“I do. Because if it should be anyone’s fault, it should be mine. I told you where to go, told Fred what passages to defend. Just like I told Tonks and Remus, and countless other dead in that Hall. I summoned the Order, and gave the battle plan. If you want to blame anyone it should be me.”

George sat there in stunned silence. It wasn’t Kingsley’s fault, no one could predict the movements of the Death Eaters and their allies. He told this to Kingsley, and the black man laughed softly.

“That doesn’t stop their souls from weighing on my conscience. Only one of us needs to carry the burden of the dead. Mad-Eye said that to me once, and now it’s my turn to shoulder that responsibility.”

“No, Fred wouldn’t want that. Neither would Remus or Tonks.” George found himself crying again as he named their dead friends, his brother, and Kingsley leaned forward and wrapped him in a warm embrace.

“No, they wouldn’t. So we’ll try and live our best lives for them, and leave fault at Voldemort’s feet.”

George looked up into Kingsley’s eyes and saw sorrow, pain, grief. But he also saw strength, resilience, resolve to continue on. He nodded and let go of the older man.

“We’ll live our best lives. For them.”


	28. Whisky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gryffindors and whisky? What could possibly go wrong?
> 
> The game they play is one I read about in a Sense8 fic, and I think it's brilliant.

Someone had decided that Truth or Dare was banned from the Gryffindor common room, and Angelina thought that was probably for the best. Add in a case of firewhisky that Fred and George stole to celebrate the Quidditch win, and that game would have been a disaster. Not that this version, Truth or Truth according to Katie, is going much better.

The rules of Truth or Truth are simple. You ask someone a question and they have to answer honestly. Then you also have to answer that same question, and then it goes on. This seems simple, but nothing is ever simple with a bunch of drunk Gryffindors.

“Lee! Who do you think is the most handsome person in the room?” Fred (or maybe George?) yelled across the room.

“Me, of course! And what’s your answer?”

“I can’t pick, there’s two of us!” Gales of laughter followed this, and Lavender slid off the couch practically crying as she tried to stop laughing and take another drink. Luckily Parvati stole the bottle from her and took a swig, grinning when Lavender pouted as she sat back down next to her.

Dean was singing softly to himself in an armchair while braiding Ginny’s hair, but jerked his head up when Lee called his name.

“Hey Dean! Have you ever broken someone’s heart?”

Alicia nudged Angelina and nodded over to where Seamus sat by himself staring out the window. Angelina giggled and leaned over to whisper in her friend’s ear.

“Course, but does he know that?”

Katie poked her head in between theirs. “I doubt it, Irish boy is too stubborn and Dean there won’t admit that he’s only dating Ginny for convenience.”

“They’re dating each other for convenience.” Alicia grinned as she looked over at the group of Gryffindors playing the game to make sure no one was listening. “My sister, in Ravenclaw, ya know? She says she’s seen a certain redhead throwing pining looks at a girl in Ginny’s year.”

“Really? I wonder who –” Angelina’s speculation was cut off at a whistle from George (or was it Fred?).

“Oi ladies! If you’re gonna sit there chattering like a bunch of hens at least share the gossip with the rest of us!” Angelina mimed zipping her lips shut, and the Weasley twins groaned.

“Alright who’s up? Neville, your turn!”

Neville blushed and turned to Ginny. “Have you ever fought someone and won?”

Ginny leaned against Dean’s knees as she thought. “In a physical fight?” At Neville’s nod, she grinned. “Sure I have. I learned to fight early, with brothers like mine. What about you?”

Neville was shaking his head, but Seamus piped up. “A'course you have, Nev. Remember Crabbe and Goyle back in first year?”

Neville muttered something about losing that fight, and Parvati reached over and patted his hand. “You definitely won that fight for everyone that matters. We saw it, you got a few good hits in!”

Lavender nodded next to her. “Yeah, you did. I thought you held your own rather well.”

Neville was blushing, but was saved from coming up with a response momentarily by Katie who stood up and said she was going to bed.

“Yeah, same here.” Angelina nodded and stood up, pulling Alicia up with her and waving goodbye to the entire common room amidst groans of disappointment.

As the three Chasers made their way into their dorm, Angelica decided she liked Truth or Truth. If it could boost someone’s ego like it had done for Neville, maybe the Gryffindors were playing it right after all.


	29. Napping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one is very short, but who doesn't love sleeping animals?

It was close to three in the morning, no trace of dawn in the sky, but the full moon shone brightly on the castle grounds. All was silent, except for the rustle of leaves when the wind blew through the trees. No animals called out in the night, which would be odd until the pile of fur in a clearing explained the strange phenomenon.

There was a werewolf sleeping in the clearing, exhausted from a night spent running around the forest. The wolf twitched an ear and tugged protectively at a smaller body nearby. The black dog huffed and inched closer, nosing his mate as he laid his head back down against the werewolf’s beating heart to continue his nap.

There was a warm presence against the werewolf’s back as well. A giant stag knelt and shares his warmth with the wolf, completely unafraid of the two meat-eaters. Similarly, the werewolf melded himself against the stag, creating a warm bubble between the three animals.

He was careful not to crush the rat that was napping between the werewolf and the deer. The rat snuggled into the hollow space left for him between the wolf’s neck and the cheek of the deer. Safe, even though he was surrounded by animals much larger than him.

The four creatures napped peacefully in the forest, having spent all night running and playing among the trees. Eventually the animals in the surrounding area got accustomed to the intrusion, and they began chittering and chirping as the moon fell slowly and dawn poked her head into the sky.

The werewolf changed back into a boy as the moon disappeared completely, and he shivered in the cold air. The animals around him shifted once more to cover his naked skin, and he smiled as he gripped the fur of the black dog laying at his chest.

They would need to leave soon and head back to the shack so the werewolf could get dressed and up to the castle for healing. For now, though, the Remus allowed himself a short respite from the woes of the world surrounded by his best friends. His brothers. His pack.


	30. Driving With The Windows Down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Roadtrip with the Golden Trio, just as long as they don't have to go camping.

They had spent weeks planning this trip. Harry had gone back to Hogwarts to redo Year Seven, affectionately called Year Eight by the younger students because even those who were at school the previous year came back to take proper classes. Hermione and Ron had come as well, of course, and they had decided that they wanted to take a roadtrip.

The three of them picked places to stay (no more camping was the only rule), things to see, what food they were going to try. All of them got their muggle driving licenses, although Ron had been extremely apprehensive after the Ford Angela. Hermione rented their car, a typical Range Rover, although Harry doesn’t believe her when she claims she didn’t use any magic to do so.

They set off the week after Year Eight exams were in. Harry was the first one driving, and he was headed South. They were going to drive through Scotland and England and across to France, where their real roadtrip would begin. Harry had never been off the island, so he was excited to try new things.

He glanced in the back seat, where Hermione was spreading out maps and books, checking their lists against as many books as she could fit in her bag. Which was quite a lot, for a witch with an Extendable Charm. It was a different bag than the one they used on the run, this one a nice leather messenger bag that Ron and Harry had gotten her for Christmas the year before.

Ron was sprawled in the front seat to Harry’s left, staring out at the countryside. He was the DJ for the first leg of the trip, and they had made a bunch of cassettes with music for the trip. Arthur Weasley had been a huge help with this, he had a surprisingly vast compilation of muggle music that they spent the Christmas holiday at the Burrow listening to and choosing their favorites, along with a few cassettes of Wizard bands. They (and Mr. Weasley) had gone to the Grangers for help putting the songs onto cassettes, as Hermione’s parents made them frequently for use at their dental practice. Ron had put in a selection of 80’s hits first, and was humming along to Journey.

Suddenly he looked over at him with a wink and a finger to his lips. Then Ron rolled down his window, the Highlands breeze making his longer hair dance around his face. Harry smirked and rolled his window down too, and they waited for Hermione to notice.

“And then we’re going – wait no, that’s the next day – no, don’t flip back, sweet Merlin and Morgana, what is going on – Ronald! Roll your window back up, my papers are flying everywhere. And you too Harry! I’m trying to make sure we have everything!”

Ron glanced back at her, grinning at the scowl on her dark face. “You worry too much, Hermione. We’re still in Scotland! It’s not like we’re going to get horribly lost driving down one long road until we hit London.”

“It’s not just one road, Ron, it’s actually –” Harry cuts her off before she can finish reaching for the map.

“We know, ‘Mione, we’ve been over it all a hundred times. Just relax, put the books away. We have a few hours before we’ll need to stop for lunch, let’s just all enjoy driving with the windows down.”

Hermione grumbled under her breath about stupid boys who were going to get them lost, but she put the books away in her new bag. She sighed, staring out the window, and then slowly rolled it down. Harry and Ron exchanged grins and the trio rode in comfortable silence as 'Separate Ways’ played in the background.

This was going to be a bloody brilliant trip.


	31. Dancing In The Kitchen At 3 AM

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter! Have some Jily!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed, if you want to chat about fic or HP or anything, I'm on tumblr with the same username (LilyAceOfDiamonds).
> 
> ~Lily

Lily woke up in the middle of the night to an empty bed next to her. She could hear rattling coming from the kitchen, and wondered what on earth James was doing. Grabbing her robe from the chair by the door, she slipped into it as she walked into the main room of their little apartment.

The sight before her eyes was an interesting one. James was standing next to the stove, a kettle on and bubbling. Well, not standing. He was swaying to some invisible music, his back to Lily. She tried not to laugh, but she must have made some noise to indicate her presence. James whirled around and grinned when he saw her.

“Lily, love of my life, my beautiful wife, my fierce warrior queen, my Lily Evans Potter.” He bounded – yes, actually bounded over, like a stag – and clasps her hands in his own. “Will you do me the honor of sharing this dance with me?”

She glances around the kitchen but couldn’t find their turntable anywhere, it was probably still tucked away in the sitting area. “There’s no music. And it’s, like, three in the morning. Why are you up?”

He waves away her objections and pulls her into his arms, spinning them around. “We make our own music, dance to our own drummers, don’t we Lils?”

She pulls away to study his face. He looked exhausted, even when he put on a good front. This war was wearing them all down, she knew, especially the Order members that were sent on the most dangerous missions.

“Are you alright Jamie?”

He sighs. “Yeah, just another letter from Sirius. Remus was out on another werewolf mission again for the full.”

Lily groans, and hugs him tight for a second. Then she puts one hand on his shoulder and the other in his hand.

“Know what? I’d be honored to dance with you, James Fleamont Potter.”

He rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling. “Even at three in the morning?”

“Sure, why not?”

He twirls her around, and then they dance around the tiny kitchen, waltzing first and then slowing to gentle swaying as they held each other. Lily rests her head on James’ shoulder, laughing softly. It felt good to act silly every once and a while.

The tea kettle shrieks and they both jump. James lets go after a second, laughing as he moves the kettle off the stove. Lily goes and selects two mugs from the dish rack by the sink, and James pours them both tea.

“Your tea, madam.” He passes her the mug with a bow, and she takes it with a dip of a curtsy.

“Why thank you, kind sir. It was a pleasure sharing this dance with you, but I’m going to retire soon to the bedchamber. Would you care to join me?”

“Why Miss Potter, it wouldn’t be proper of me!” The look of shock James gives her makes her snort with laughter, and he grins.

“Come on, then. Time for bed.” Lily grabs his free hand in her own, and leads him into the bedroom. As they climb into bed and curl around each other, she’s remind once again how much she loves the man she married. And she’s grateful he loves her back, her life has never been the same since.

She wouldn’t change it for the world. They would love each other until the very end.


End file.
